Pink barn

I love old barns. We had one up north, a ramshackle, disintegrating, greying, roomy old building that housed our rabbits, goats, chickens, geese, and horse. Cosily enough, even though the old boards had shrunk over the years, leaving gaps we could see light through. But the fragrant bales of hay in the loft, the trampled hay on the floor provided warmth and comfort all winter.

Sometimes, in the summer, I would just stand there in the cool, listening to the interspecies chatter around me, revelling in the colours and shapes; the silvery grey of old wood, the ripe yellow-brown of the tail end of last year's hay, rich browns of horse and old leather saddle, pitchforks and pails, bags of feed smelling of grain and molasses, a smooth, round goose egg . . .

25 years later, the sight of a decaying barn brings it all back.

Small barn in afternoon sunlight, Fraser Valley.

Flatlands

The Fraser River splits into two arms as it enters the delta. Between them lies Richmond, with another split in the northern arm making a separate island for the airport and Iona Beach. It's flat, low-lying land, as befits a delta. Half of it, more or less, is residential and business; the other half is farmland, growing mostly blueberries and cranberries.

Across the river to the south, is the municipality of Delta, stretching from the Fraser to Boundary Bay to the south. It's the largest municipality in the Greater Vancouver Regional District, flat and boggy like Richmond, but sparsely populated. North Delta, where we live, is off the delta proper, up on the hillsides; most of the people live up here. Below are farmlands, Burns Bog, and a lot of empty space.

I measured the flats on Google; from Reifel Island at the northwest corner to Burns Bog to the Nicomekl River on the south, and back along Mud Bay to Tsawwassen, then up to Reifel again for the fifth side of a kid's drawing of a house; as the crow flies, about 40 miles. Following the roads, it's about 60.

We criss-cross this area on our way to most of our favourite shores. We don't usually stop; it's a long drive already. Often, we take photos from the car windows. Blurry photos, mostly. Not all.

Taken as I drove; soggy field in the rain.

I stopped for this one, along Colebrook Road, just off Mud Bay. The only fishing spot handy was the ditch.

There are fish in this water, see?

Farmhouse and fog. 104th Street, near Burns Bog. This area is prone to fogs and wet mists, even when the sun is shining on the beach.

Grazing goats with the hills of South Surrey in the background.

Sheep on a spit of land between the Nicomekl and the Serpentine rivers.

Why do they leave this coat on the sheep's back? There must be a reason; quite a few were wearing these.

Leeks. 104th Street again. The next field over grew brussel sprouts.

Reflections in a ditch. Tsawwassen.

Last bit of wasteland before the hills and residential area of Tsawwassen. Where we stop to watch hawks.

Drive-by

Patchwork barn:

Delta farmland. Taken from the car window.

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Tumbledown Dairy

We've been driving past this barn on the Ladner Trunk road for a long time. Each trip, I am surprised to see it still standing, and say, "Next time, we'll stop and take photos." Thursday was this "next time," finally.

Tumbledown barn

Side wall, curved like a boat's hull, but not watertight.

Nor is the roof.

Geometric hodge-podge.

Lean-to on the end. Leaning.

Detail of one wall.

In spite of all that twisting and crumbling, Laurie says the building is sturdy enough. I don't quite believe him, but he has evidence:

Solid underpinnings.

I still wouldn't get too close; I was afraid even to sneeze.

It seems to have been used as a dairy barn:

Surge. 1983 - 1999 logo.

This is on the door of the shed at the rear, beside the old tank. (see top photo) (Would that be for milk?) Laurie tells me that Surge is the name of the milker they were using.*

In a dirty window in the shed, a glimpse of machinery, and a reflection of the farm across the road.

Fans, motor, tanks and stuff. With blackberry runners, both Himalayan and cutleaf or evergreen.

Through another window, a back door and a pile of assorted parts, vintage and modern.

And there was an unexpected bonus; I almost stepped on a patch of large cup mushrooms.


It came with a 1981 penny for size comparison. I brought that home with me. Waste not, want not..

*Here are some of the Surge advertising cartoons. Cute! And a smiling milkmaid on a postcard (scroll down).
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Serendipity strikes again

Finally! After days of sorting and deleting, sorting and deleting, editing and deleting, re-arranging and deleting, I've whittled our photos of the (freezing!) side trip on Westham Island to only 72.

We were looking for Snow Geese. But ...

On our route to Reifel Island Bird Sanctuary, we always slow down to look at the assemblages on the corner of the road to a veggie farm; they are always exhuberant, sometimes very funny. This time, Laurie wanted to take a photo:

Mister Pumpkin

I turned into the side road and let him out, then went to find a turn-around spot. Good thing the road is narrow and I had to drive to the end; otherwise, I would have missed Missus Pumpkin on her tractor.

Missus Pumpkin

The Snow Geese could wait; we'd found Westham Island Herb Farm.

(Although they grow and sell a lot more than herbs.)

We wandered down the driveway, saying, "Hello!" to a cheerful witch on the way.

Dressed to kill

There were pumpkins everywhere ...

Around an old Ford on the lawn


A Pumpkin Tree


In planters and wheelbarrow-loads


In old laundry sinks


On tables

On chairs and in an old wooden wheelbarrow,
and atop that signpost in the back,

... and by the fence and up a tree.

But that was only for starters; the circle tour, next post.
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