DANIEL
Recently I spent the weekend in Gamble Township, Trout Run, PA vacationing at a semi-working farm. The cows were safely off in the distance on a hill opposite the property, arrayed in various attitudes of picturesque bovine placidity. I am not sure what connection, if any, they had with the barn on what we quickly considered our "estate." Coming into possession of several acres of land with ponds, creeks, woods and accessory buildings quickly went to our heads, so accustomed to the narrow horizons of small, precious allotments of urban space. Naturally the barn, looming in iconic red against a misty green smear of countryside, demanded immediate investigation. We were not disappointed. It was satisfyingly smelly, dank and dangerous. Yawning chutes, tilting stairs and missing floorboards, the shadowy space sliced through with expressionist streaks of light--all of this, with heady odors of manure and hay--brought out a childish recklessness. Needless to say, this seductive death trap was declared off limits for the genuine children among us. However, as part of my daily inspection of the property, I returned to take stock. These photos sum up my impressions of this--for me--exotic space.
