An Old Barn

A barn, the last building one encounters before entering the woods on the way up Dicey's Mill Trail towards Mt. Passaconaway in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I recall taking this picture. For no reason other than the wonder of a fine spring day I lingered, sat for a few minutes on a stone beside barn and trail. I was struck by the beauty of the old weathered and warped shingles, the contrasting deep red of the small window frame and sill, and the young balsam fir beside them. Composition, I thought, was less something one made than something one found, and took pleasure in.