|The morning after what will forever be known as simply The Barn Fire|
|Chris watches as the flames course through the barn|
By the time everyone filed outside, the structure was awash in flames. Tens of thousands dollars worth of hay, our tractor, manure spreader, four wheeler, and a few bikes of incalculable sentimental value were reduced to steel and ash. Not to mention a pair of newborn calves and our faithful beef bull, Billy. RIP Bill.
|The grass is always greener…|
The fire inspectors are still investigating the cause of the fire and though we are busy deciding how to proceed, we are thankful that no one was hurt.
|The remains of our tractor and four wheeler.|
For the first 5 minutes, as we watched the fire burn there was a pall of sheer panic and disbelief as the main structure of our farm disappeared before our eyes. Then as the reality sunk in, it was incredible to witness the solidarity growing seemingly right out of the ashes. We spend all day working together and though we pride ourselves on the strength of our community, it has never felt as present as it did that night. There is a certain point where there’s nothing you can do but watch the embers burn and share the silence.
We may have lost our barn but it’s startling how events like this make you reconsider what is truly valuable to you. As disastrous as it may seem, we are quick to count our blessings. Our dairy parlor is completely intact. One of our interns moved his camp from the barn just a few hours prior. Had the fire started a week later, the majority of our beef herd would have been overwintering in the barn and we could have lost invaluable breeding stock.
|The phoenix chicken rising from the ashes|
And lastly we’d like to share, a quaint parting haiku from Bobbi Deck, that simply and beautifully sums up our feelings: