The songs of cardinals, blue jays, and wrens at daybreak are the soundtrack of summer. They evoke images of towering sunflowers, county fairs, roadside stands, day trips, road trips, and kicking off our shoes to walk barefoot. Each evening the playlist changes to the gentle song of the mourning dove. It’s said they will “coo” before an approaching rain. Experts will tell us that’s not a scientifically proven way to predict the weather; however, more often than not, I’ve found there’s wisdom in that old farmer’s saying.
While we hold out hope that the August evenings will cool down a little, it just isn’t meant to be. They call these the “dog days of summer” for a reason…weeks so hot and humid that they dash all hopes of a pleasant evening spent porch sitting with family & friends.
Like so many of you, I begin the days early to try and beat the heat. There are gardens to till, flowerbeds to weed, a to-do list to tackle, and oh – did I mention non-stop weeding?
Outdoor water buckets are refilled throughout the day with fresh water, and Glowbug is quite partial to a cold, crisp apple as a summertime treat!
These are the warm-weather days in my corner of the world. And while I’ve certainly been known to grumble about the oppressive heat, there’s something comforting in the days’ anticipated routine.
Lately my daughter and I have been enjoying old-fashioned Sunday drives. An afternoon car ride with no specific destination and absolutely no hurry – it’s pure delight. We’ll turn onto what we call an “adventure road” – a route we’ve never traveled before. Sometimes the road is gravel, sometimes dirt, but it always comes with the anticipation of what might be around the bend. These peaceful drives have taken us past humble cabins, spectacular flower farms, and pastures of bovine beauties. Once we even discovered a camel!
A common sight in the Midwest that never fails to catch my eye, are barns. I once heard it described as “Barn-heart” – the love of barns! Isn’t it the perfect word for what’s seen as the heart of a farm?
I don’t think there’s anything that says “farm” like a barn. Ask anyone to describe the average farm, and I’ll bet most will say they envision a red barn…maybe silos, a cupola, or a lean-to with a tractor tucked inside. Sure, there’s probably a fenced in area with cattle or horses, a farmhouse, a garden and clothesline, but it’s the barn most people mention first.
When Ohio celebrated its bicentennial, one barn in each of her 88 counties was painted with this celebration logo – and all painted by the same talented artist!
What is it that draws me to barns? Maybe the many old architectural styles: Bank, Saltbox, Gothic, Gambrel, and Monitor. Or, maybe it’s my amazement over the hand-hewn timbers that were shaped with an axe or a two-person saw. Then again, it might be the faded handwriting I see on my own barn walls…phone numbers, names, measurements from decades ago.
This is of my favorite quotes:
“Barns are landmarks, the symbols of rural life that spark our curiosity
and fan the flames of the American spirit.”
-Laura Brooks
I couldn’t agree more…barns just seem to tug at my heartstrings. And yes, I do mean the old ones…I’m not one to shy away from a few cobwebs, a dirt floor, or a rickety ladder that leads me upstairs to a loft. Ours has the faded remnants of an old Pepsi logo…I would love to have seen it in its “hay” day!
So, come along on a Midwestern Sunday drive…the windows are down, the radio is low, and I like to imagine I’m driving an aqua 1957 Nomad (sigh!) We’ll be turning on unassuming dirt roads, going over rolling hills, and along quiet country lanes. Come on, let’s find some old barns!

It seems most barns are red, but why? Doing a little “Barn-heart” investigating, I soon found out many farmers made their own paint. Combining linseed oil (which is orange-colored) with milk and lime, then adding rust turned the mixture red. I admire that can-do attitude…using milk and lime from the farm, then adding linseed oil to seal and protect the wood…ingenious!

Many of the really old barns had a coupla like this one…I love the arched windows and lightening rod on top! Small but mighty, they are a way for the hot air to escape so the cooler air from windows and doors below can fill the barn. (Most appreciated on these dog days!)
While it seems most barns are red or white, this pumpkin-colored beauty was a treat to discover!

I’ve never seen another barn roof like this one…the curved rafters must have been made by hand. Imagine…
A little barn in a sheep pasture looked as if it just might fall over if we gave it a nudge. Even though it was leaning, it was still holding on with all its might!
This little lady was most likely a granary or corn crib. It was raised off the ground to help keep the grain dry and to ward off any pesky critters.
When I saw this barn, I felt it should be remembered in black and white…I love the shadows and shaggy textures that seem to “pop” when the color is gone.

A few years ago I was lucky to be a guide in our county’s annual barn tour – this barn is another one that seemed to be best captured in black and white.
Taking a trip back in time, here’s a closer look at a hand-hewn beam in one of our barns,
along with the wooden pegs of a post & beam joint.
I’m always in awe of little discoveries like this coffee can make-do repair. It’s not far from a 1948 farm license plate floor patch. Uncovering treasures like these are a testament to the resourcefulness of the farmers of the day…I wouldn’t dream of removing them.
Last summer I decided it was time to tidy up the smaller barn. It tends to collect garden tools, wheel barrows, and any assortment of “things” that just don’t seem to belong anywhere else.
I never know what I’ll find when I begin digging into these old buildings, and on this particular day I spied a collection of bottles on a dusty shelf. I carefully washed them, did some research, and enjoyed a little history lesson. I discovered fascinating facts about soda bottles from the early 1940’s, amber glass from 1915 Illinois, and a curious chemist’s apothecary bottle.
Here are a few straight off the barn shelves,
and then after a warm, sudsy bath.
These vintage wash tubs were found hidden in a corner,
and what looks like maybe a spool was attached to this door…ta-da, a doorknob! (I don’t know what’s secured to the end-any ideas?)
A pretty little keyhole cover was tucked away in a corn crib and is dated 1887.
Okay, now this shelf hanging in the barn may look a little worse for the wear, but that shade of blue just stole my heart! It was there for years, and finally I decided it needed to come inside. I’m sure the farm wife from a century ago would be astonished (maybe horrified) that it was brought inside the house!
While I have no idea what they are, these were hanging on the side of the shelf, and there they will stay.
A little closer look at the drawer with its carved initial. The other drawer is missing its knob, so a handy (make-do!) hex head cap screw bolt stepped in,
And last but not least, our barn silhouetted against the Northern Lights…a rare experience for our part of the country that was simply breathtaking.

Well, that wraps up our Sunday drive and barn tour – thanks for coming along!
I’ve always had a soft spot for old barns, well, old houses, old things, old ways. And whenever I see one of these works of art, it’s a reminder to me not only of our agricultural roots, but that history still holds strong.
I couldn’t agree more with Hector De Crevecoeur:
“For my part, I’d rather admire the ample barns of one of our opulent farmers…
than study the dimensions of the temples of Ceres.”
See you soon, with more “tails” from the farm!
Another fantabulous post Miss Mary! This one, once again, touches my heart and soul so closely…. Not because I go on many “adventure roads” (that happens totally unintentionally…) but because I’ve had a bad case of “barn-heart” since I was small – and it always breaks my heart seeing one being torn down. But none hurt as much as when the current owners of our family farm took our barn down. Knowing it was built by my great grandfather and his brothers and remembering the time I spent inside its worn walls kept warm by nothing other than the animals within, all came flooding back in a wave that threatened to take me down. I had asked for the old door handle and latch but did not get it. 🙁 Anyways…I digress. You certainly found a wonderful variety of great barns. My favorites are always those with the cupolas and “extra” details and those old, old, ones (like the ones of your black-and-white photos). They are so painfully beautiful in such a bittersweet way. ~Robin~ (PS….It has to be a 1957 Aqua Nomad?? Wouldn’t a 1955 deep burgundy one do???)
Oh my. You are speaking my language, dear Mary! I first heard the word “barn heart” a decade ago, although I had been “suffering” with it for much longer. I never knew there was a name for this ache I had inside for beautiful, worn barns. What a blessing to have so many wonderful structures in your area. Thank you for sharing with us.
The weather is changing here in North Carolina, so hold tight, fall is on its way!
Continued blessings.
Wonderful buildings.
Barns here are usually a lot smaller and built of stone. Many get converted into houses. X
Love this post so much! Such hidden treasures!
Oh what a beautiful way to start my day! I’m 81 years young and grew up playing in barns and dearly love them. So many of them here in the Midwest are being replaced by steel buildings and it breaks my “barn-heart”. Barns speak of the past without words, of a time when America was young and men were building her future with wooden beams. When I step into an old barn I always feel like I’m in a cathedral, a holy place and it touches my soul. Thank you for this wonderful post.
I forgot to mention in my earlier post that I want to ride down my country road with a cute boyfriend in a 1957 turquoise and white Chevy…Sweet!
After a bad start to my day, I found your blog so uplifting and enjoyable !
Thank you for sharing these beautiful pictures and your Sunday adventures. I also love barns and living in mid Michigan there’s no shortage of barns to see and be amazed. My grandparents owned a small farm in Sunfield MI As time passed the farm was sold and the barn was falling apart. Fortunately before it was torn down I along with my brother and husband were permitted to get some of the old wood before hand. We felt so lucky and I use a small piece for a simple shell in our living room🩷
Dear Mary, thank you for this lovely post. I grew up in the mid 1950’s with my grandparents on a farm in upstate NY.
My grandfather purchased the property from a former dairy;Aldrich Farms. In addition to a beautiful house there was a 100 year old magnificent barn that became a playground and sanctuary for me and my brother. It also housed our beloved chicken flock,our many Black Angus,and of course our pigs. I can still hear the piglets squealing when the country vet gave them shots.
Many years have passed and the barn fell when it was 160 years old. I copied your pic of the hand hewn beams and post & beam joints and forward to my brother who still lives there.Our barn had been constructed in the same manner. I will be visiting my brother next month.There will be many barn conversations.And while the land where the barn once stood is vacant it will live forever in our hearts.
Thank you for embracing history,old barns,old ways,etc. I think of the many hands and hearts, the hard work,passion and determination that created these structures and treasured items.Blessings of gratitude to them and the gifts they left behind.
I have loved barns my whole life. I remember being young and walking into my grandfather’s barn and the smell of hay ohhh it was wonderful. We use to do Sunday drives when we were kids. So glad I visited tonight.
I love this article and so timely! Unfortunately I lost my beloved very old wooden barn to a barn fire this February. We’ve just finished rebuilding the shiny, sparkly new (metal) barn and I do love it – but also very much miss (and grieve!) my lost barn. I saved the door handle on a piece of wood that was on the main slider door (charred and all) … and will be placing it in the new barn which I’m calling Mariah (the place in the Bible where bitter water was turned into sweet water by throwing in the Tree) – my reminder to keep Jesus in all of my life and He turns my bitter (lost barn) into sweet (new barn). God is so good! Oh also, my last name is Barnhart ❤️. Thank you for the beautiful article!
We have a barn my husband has restored an it’s like it’s just part of us with it’s only lil personality Just beautiful Thank you for sharing 💕