It is 14F (–10C) this morning. Snow on the ground. Yesterday we were locked inside with a blizzard hurling itself around outside. It was about 18F all day. Snow flew in swirls through the fields past the buildings and straight out across the plains. It seemed very certain of its path that snow. We were in the way and got smacked for the privilege. The Farmy Animals were locked in the barn for the day as well. So I wrapped my old camera in a plastic bag against the nastiness, put all my clothes on at once and went to the barn, taking you guys with me. Did you know that your eyes live in an old camera.
The wind was gusting up to 40 miles an hour (a good Wellington kind of wind), TonTon, the Big Dog and I literally forced our bodies into the wind to the barn. Bent. I have heard of old fellas stretching a rope from their houses to their barns so they can pull themselves hand over hand to see to their stock, this seemed like a good idea to me yesterday. Finally we got to the door, shovelled the snow away from it and stumbled our way into the barn, the wind howled at us, furious that we had made it and we slammed the door in its face. 
A curious thing happens in the barn when the wind is bombarding snow at the walls. The moment you close the door against the storm, the volume drops and the barn shifts right through time into a stillness that is layered with age somehow. You see, the walls of the barn are full of cracks, shrunken old, old boards, holes, loose planks. The huge space becomes fractured and hesitant. Old. The light itself is borrowed, flickering in Tinkerbell delight from an old movie reel.
Filtered, finely sifted, talcum snow drifts into the barn through the minutest of cracks. It is caught in the light like dustmotes. But not dusty. It gently falls through the tips of light like a sunshower of the finest shards of crystal champagne glasses. There is no sound though there should be a tinkle. Just this glisten in the air. These tiniest of rejected diamonds. Like migraines flashing lights in your eyes but sweeter. The Storm is blindfolded in here. Only its breath is allowed. This immense embracing sense of otherworldliness consumes us.
It is warm from the animals, alive and shuffly. I take shots of the cows for you but it feels as though there should be more big heads turning and other tails switching. The shuffling and chewing is ancient. Timeless. Shadows are here in this light. Other doey eyes slowly blink. Other calves sigh.
Everyone stands or sleeps or chews quietly. No-one is bashing at the doors to get out today. Or bellowing for more feed. History has come. Old forgotton lullabies are being sung.
And now once again it is Morning on the Farmy. The sky is still black so I have yet to see any of the damage outside. I am concerned about the hives. The storm smashed through here for most of the day and night. The snow has stopped but the wind is still ripping through. Mary’s Cat decided to sleep in the barn but was sat on his stool at the kitchen door by 4.30am as usual so he is OK. Such a worry that tough little vandal of a cat.
OK, since I started to write it has dropped to 13F. So I had better start putting on the layers and out I will go.
Good morning
c
The Kitchen's Garden 
96 responses to “Hiding Out from the Blizzard in The Barn”
Stay warm, Celi! Love the gentleness in the barn once the doors are closed. Thanks for sharing that. 🙂
Gentle is the word .. and now it is evening again and i must go and shut all the doors and say ni night to my animals! c
Although I don’t necessarily want those extreme cold temperatures, I do want cold weather to come to Chicago! It didn’t feel too much like Christmas because it wasn’t that cold this year.
7pm. No it has not been that cold at all! but evidently it is going to be cold tonight! so rug up!! c
This post is pure magic. I can hear the howl and hiss of the wind and the barn doors latching to create your silence. The pictures are wonderful and I especially like the bird in the window. Love it.
7.17pm .. yes that naughty pigeon stood and posed for me in the window.. it was a lucky shot. i could do without the pigeons though, they eat all the feed! c
I would love to be out in the barn hanging out with the gang. woo woo woo!!!
You would love it rumpy! c
A great piece of writing, Celi. The banding together of wintering companions. Loved it.
Hi aimee, hope you are having some good days over on the island.. c
I loved your description of the storm! It is almost like we are there with you with all our senses. You do with words what I struggle to hard to do with photography!
You succeed Mimo. Your shots are most beautiful.. c
You know I always love to see Daisy. It was definitely cold here int he Northeast. It was 25, but with winds it felt like it was 18. I just want summer back now LOL.
It is the wind that makes it miserable, cold I can manage, cold blowing right through me is a trial! c
Lovely! Very evocative.
Hi Annie.. great to see you.. c
C that is cold! A very snowy, blizzardy kind of cold. Keep those ears warm.
It is not aussie today that is for sure! c
Beautifully written C and for the first time, the cold sounds good to me, thank you.
🙂 Mandy
Thank you mandy! c
Geez, it really was coming down sideways, wasn’t it! 😦 it’s getting really cold here now too. I know it’s inevitable but I’m still not looking forward to it. I love the pictures of your cows the best – they always look slightly confused/bemused at the same time 🙂
They do have a bemused look, that is exactly the word! c
Love the stories you weave!
Morning gretchen!! Hope you are having a good writing day! c
this makes the -7 here this morning feel positively tropical ! I hope the hives have survived
I don’t know -7 is pretty cold.. c
Good girl CC. Stay warm.
Dad.
Oh it is The Father! Great to see you over this side in the blogosphere! I stay warm, sometimes I have so many clothes on the dogs bark AT me! c
What a beautiful, evocative description of the atmosphere inside the barn. I was right there with you, in the hush and the fractured quiet.
mm fractured quiet, beautiful .. c