[Click on the photos to see them in larger format]
Today I drove to Dayton, Washington for an appointment. It has snowed the last two mornings, and as you enter the Palouse hills there's a new picture-postcard scene to greet you around every corner. One of the first was this barn as I entered Dixie, a little burg that I'd miss if I didn't have to slow down to obey the speed limit.

The panoramas were quiet, almost magical with the hills disappearing up into the winter fog. Blues and greys and whites merge imperceptibly into each other. As a girl who grew up around palm trees and jungle creep, where the seasons were "rainy" or "dry," this still strikes me every year as being strange, as though I'd moved to a different universe.

What is this kind of world where, under the snow, winter wheat will soon be appearing, where the farm machines sit out by the road with their new winter-white caps of snow, where simple farmhouses sit quiet and dark as though nobody were home? How can a world so cold and inhospitable also look so enchanting?
Love old barns, and that's a really great get with the snow on it like that.
ReplyDeleteYour first picture is post card perfect!
ReplyDelete