We walked into the barn, straw beneath our feet, cool dampness in the air.
The heat was held back outside, behind the thick, whitewashed walls.
The stalls stood empty, long since vacated by the cows that had once made this place their home. Cobwebs stretched wide across the windows and walls, remnants of a life and living tucked safely into yesterdays.
I pointed the camera again and again, searching for the beauty beneath the layers of dust and webs.
But with each click, each image saved, the beauty wasn’t hidden.
It was there. In the dirt. In the shadows. In the empty echo of a cat’s cry.
In the forgotten tag, the cracked walls.
Waiting – for eyes to stop,
eyes to see,
eyes to behold.
It’s always there. Always waiting.
Food for the joyless soul – the hungry soul – aching for more grace.