Big Red Splash
or Red He Said…and red it became when on a still Monday morning the mist inched in across the yellowing cornfields, bringing with it The Barn Painters.
I’ve heard of them, and Pete has spun tales about them. But I was sure they were a thing of fiction, these men who roam the land and lay great swaths of red across the countryside, painting entire barns in one day. It’s been getting late in the barn-painting season so I had given up any chance of seeing the fabled men of painterly lore. I imagined I would have better luck catching the tooth fairy and pocketing me some fairy dust. But I was wrong oh me of little faith. The Barn Painters hath cometh. They swept in on Monday and were gone by Tuesday, leaving our once worn-looking barn a deep, rich red. And I’m still trying to figure it all out. Where do they come from? Where do they stay at night? How much land do they cover? How many barns do they paint in a season and finally, do they dance around a bonfire at night? Pete didn’t ask those questions, he preferred to stick to the subject of the barn itself. To which I said, “BOOOring, dig up the dirt man”:
So instead, Gray Ghost and I peered out from the porch and watched as the work progressed:
And then Ghost and I sneaked around the perimeter of the barn, tip-toed behind the steer pen and then traipsed around to the front to view the entire operation of these mysterious men of red. Which reminds me, what is black and white and red all over? Holsteins getting hit by wind-driven paint spray:
Despite my burning questions going unanswered, we now have a shiny, red barn. As for the men of red mystery and unknown origins? Last I heard, they moved down the road and turned another barn red in a day and were never seen again. But, they will be whispered about till next year…