The Barn's Legacy

The sky was blue, pure cerulean. A single cotton candy cloud lazed in the distance, surfing the breeze. The sun, a white ball in sky, focused like a spotlight on an abandoned road where a lizard basked in the warmth. A light wind wound down the gravel road, picking up dust and tossing it against the weeds pushing through the forgotten foundations of a demolished farmhouse. In the distance, sitting on a slight rise, stood a lone structure marking the passage of time.

The frail barn stood alone, looking down from its small hill. Once, cows grazed the surrounding fields, keeping the grass short and tame. Those same cows would plod through its doors, content to call the barn home for the evening while the horses, weary from their day’s work, munched on their feed. Their combined breaths breathing life and warmth into the barn. That warmth was long gone. Gone were the horses and the cows. Gone were the whinnies and bellows. Now the fields were covered in tall golden blades that danced in the breeze, allowing just a peek at the bright green starting to push through.

The breeze rushed up the rise and into the barn, filling it with a sigh. Once the barn was filled with the sweet scents of hay and manure. The tang of sweat from man and beast mixed with the rich aroma of fresh warm milk. Now the air was stale and musty. Gone where the hay bales and grunting men with their tools and pails.

Once the barn was painted red as the first tomato with clean white trim. It beamed from its hill, a beacon for two and four legged beasts alike. Long ago wind and rain stripped it bare, the faintest trace if its ruddy past trapped in the deepest creases of the now grey walls. The barn struggled to stand proud on its hill, left to rattle in the wind like dry bones.

There was a time when the barn was filled with the sounds of joy and laughter. The crunch of popcorn mixed with the murmured awe of parents while children screamed and giggled with their hands full of spun sugar. Gone were the crowds and the sweet treats. Gone were the ribbons and balloons.

Once, the barn had been important. Once it had held within its walls a wonder. Once it witness the unlikeliest of friendships. Once, the barn had been home to a piglet that could dance. He would rise in the morning to trot, and jump, and flip, and spin. The crowds would exclaim and cheer. As they spectators cleared, the piglet would settle for the evening and speak with his best friend. Once, the barn was home to a spider. She was a true artist. Her legs wove incredible works designed to do more than just catch flies, they were designed to inspire. Designed to inspire a piglet to believe he was more than what the world declared him to be. Long gone were the spider and the pig. Gone were the miraculous webs and gleeful squeals.

The barn had been old then. Now it was antiquated and abandoned. The barn watched closely as another puff of wind swept through. It sighed again. Well, not quite abandoned. For years the barn watched as mice scurried about scavenging egg sacks and grain. Pigeons, sparrows, and crows found refuge in its rafters, some staying longer to raise their young. The barn watched as they hunted insects and spiders within its walls crashing through abandoned webs. The barn watched as those that survived caught the wind and headed out into the world.

The barn watched as a tiny creature stirred. No larger than a pinhead, the arachnid peaked from behind its spider silk cover.

It’s time to go little one.

A single strand on of the finest spider silk dangled the the spider’s abdomen. The barn held its breath as the breeze climbs the hill again. It watched as the tiny strand of web flutters and the spider surrenders, lifting in the air to be carried to its new home.

Good bye little one. Be safe.

Long gone were Charlotte and Wilbur. Now gone was Charlotte’s last descendent. With one last sigh, the barn let go.

A puff of dust pushed the tiny arachnid on. On to carry the legacy of a spider, a pig, and a barn to wherever it was needed next.