It's Friday. Don't you think we all deserve a little music time? Certainly. Nothing like a well-worn acoustic guitar on a sunny day to make you slow down, take it easy and yearn for a good craft beer (whether to accentuate the great music or dull its possible terribleness). Either way, have a great Friday, folks.

Larger version here: The Warmth of the Wood

This old, hulking behemoth lived behind our house for years and years. It was alive with wildlife and memories, creaky wood and rusty tin, and the grace that only old things can have. One night, it burned to the ground at the hands of a vengeful lightning storm, probably angry for how high on the hill the barn stood. It's gone now, but it shared itself with my camera on a number of occasions, its not-so-vacant eyes gazing out over the lake and valley. We still miss it. So, it's not lost.

Larger version for viewing and purchase here: Even Old Barns Get Cow Licks

Once upon a time, there was a barn atop the hill behind our house. It was a great old beast of indeterminate age, worn by time, neglect and weather to a fine reminder of a lost age. There it sat—quietly, patiently, staring out over the valley—allowing wildlife to seclude itself safely and photographers to snap away. Then, one night a few years ago, a bolt of lightning took it away, turning the weathered wood into so much tinder and fuel. Now, all that's left are some pictures. 

That's why I take pictures. 

Larger version available for purchase here: http://bacn.me/10s0