It could be that they were enemies at first, this old respected barn and the loud smelly upstart. The barn may have resented the new arrival for disturbing the calm and restful noises of his surroundings. It spooked the animals he was attempting to shelter. Made them restless and curious. The barn was used to the regular, to what had always been. His rancher, his animals, his wagon, feed, smells, noise, peace. Then the rancher started saying how much easier it was having this new thing around, how checking the animals and the water was just so much faster this way. “Progress is a wonderful thing” the barn heard the rancher say.
The truck heard too and was happy. Happy he could be a part of something. Happy to be needed. Yes, he knew that the old guy he lived next to, that huge barn that stood watch over everything, didn’t like him. Felt he was intrusive. Felt that he was ruining a good thing by coming in and having the nerve to change the way things had always been. He was really hoping though, that once the barn got used to him, maybe he would come around and stop ignoring him. There was so much he wanted to ask, to learn . He just hoped he would be given the chance one day to sit and just talk about the old days. To have the old barn share his memories and stories.
Through the years they learned to live together. They both adjusted to the other and came to an understanding that this was just the way of things now. The barn was still needed but the truck was too. The seasons came and went, snow, rain, green grass, golden fall fields, snow again. Together they became a good team, a well seasoned duo. When they remembered to add the rancher into the mix they realized that things were pretty much perfect. They envisioned the future just rolling on and on, unchanging except for a couple loose shingles and a little bit of rust. Yup, life was perfect they agreed.
As the truck got older though he noticed that the barn started needing repairs. The problem was that the rancher whom they both loved and respected was also aging. His children had decided that in the name of that word the rancher had used so long ago, ‘progress’, they didn’t want to be bothered with the hard work that ranching required. The cold, the heat, the drought, the uncertain yields, why would you do that while living so far from ‘civilization’? A nice easy 9-5 job with a house in town and only a small yard to take care of, yes, that sounds much more sensible.
They let the rancher stay for a couple more years while they made their plans, but eventually they got their way. The rancher was moved, the land was sold, and the barn and truck were left to their own devices.
Suddenly, the truck found the barn more willing to talk than ever. Oh the stories and memories they shared! The good old days were lived over and over again as these two companions kept each other company.
Then the day came when the old barn said he was tired. The truck was worried by this, but he knew how hard it was for his friend to stay steady as year by year he became more and more stooped. So quietly he told his old companion that it was ok, that there was room right next to him to rest. With a great heave the barn relinquished his pride and lay next to his old friend, grateful that he had someone to keep him company. The truck too, was grateful for such a friend as the barn had turned out to be. They were quite the pair they would laugh to each other. Quite the pair indeed.
As I stopped to visit them this day, I swear I could hear them whispering their stories still. All they need is someone quiet and willing to listen and they will share their piece of history.
Love from here,