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Nicole Reber / 46 items

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The charm of a tumbledown barn is always this – they're meant to be left alone. Wind blowing through the cracks between boards, snow sifting in, rain pelting on a metal roof. No woodstove burning, no warmth against the chill unless maybe you're a calf curled up in the straw. No one ever slept here, save for maybe kids camping out, or young lovers in the loft. Weather-beaten bodies on hard concrete, cold comfort. Bitter breezes off the Bay of Fundy, blown straight through your bones. Skeletal structures, x-rays in real life, bare naked beauty. It takes a lot to bring a barn down, and they always find some way to pick me up.

February 13, 2020
North Mountain, Nova Scotia

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You can support my work
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and see everything
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You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
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Maybe we'll leave a name behind, letters that spell out scraps of memories, wonder what became of Fred and Terri? Knee deep in the snow, over your head in history, all anyone wants is to be remembered. You must know this – nothing hurts like a dream that's died. A field once worked for a century, lying fallow forever. Farmsteads put to bed, dead to the sleepy springtime. You could still plow the grass under, still sleep under the rooftop, save the soul of the home. Precarious additions could be pared down, cut back to the original shape of this place. The side door hangs on its hinges weeping, three teardrop windows dripping down, eyes wide open. One more winter weighing on a roof that's still straight, give or take a degree or two. It's been about a decade and a half sitting sleeping, ugly beauty, but it's not too late to wake.

February 13, 2020
North Mountain, Nova Scotia

facebook | instagram | twitter | tumblr | youtube | etsy

You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
first on Patreon

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  • L
  • M

facebook | instagram | twitter | tumblr | youtube | etsy

You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
first on Patreon


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