When I come across old barns, like this one along Indiana’s US 33, I feel like Don Quixote. A barn is not just a barn but a citadel of honor, standing watch over a kingdom’s lifeblood. These architectural icons of an agricultural era transform me from a simple traveler to a knight-errant in search of adventure. My vehicle becomes my Rocinante and my family takes on the role of loyal squire as we set off down the road, our hearts inclined to find menacing giants where the rest of the world sees mere windmills.
© 2013 Tyrel Bramwell