Instant Nostalgia

They paved a dairy farm and put up a McMansionland.

My daily walks have taken me past this dairy farm, tucked onto a bluff overlooking the Columbia river and surrounding lowlands, since we moved here in 2005. It was a two-lane road with often no shoulder, but the traffic was light and courteous.

If this road didn't turn here, it would run off a bluff in about 100 yards and end up either on the major north-south interstate railroad line, or in a wildlife refuge set up for water birds beside the Columbia River.

If this road didn't turn here, it would run off a bluff in about 100 yards and end up either on the major north-south interstate railroad line, or in a wildlife refuge set up for water birds beside the Columbia River.

Once I made the turn in the road by the dairy farm, I could continue north, where there was a little orchard on the left and the border of McMansionland on the right. I would eventually turn back and head home through the McMansionland where there were some nice rolling hills (less conducive for farming, perfect for 4,000 square foot, split-level, architectural nightmares).

One morning I took this stunner of a photo. MAN I'll miss this old barn.

One morning I took this stunner of a photo. MAN I'll miss this old barn.

I enjoyed the peek through the dairy and orchard, to the river and lowlands below. Like a cat (or a short person), I like to peer down from heights onto smaller, less better things below me. It was a highlight of my walks. I could often see red-tail hawks trolling the pastures for field mice.

Then this happened. 

Same corner. No barn.

Same corner. No barn.

I say "this happened" like it was an act of God or something, but it was an act of change. The old farmer died, the kids were not interested in dairy farming, they found out how much the land was now worth, and an eager developer made them an offer they couldn't refuse.

There goes the neighborhood.

There goes the neighborhood.

I get it. I don't want to milk cows either. But it's still sad. And you know the houses aren't going to be as cute as those cows. And I won't be able to look through the fence and through all the houses. The river will be a secret for those few, super-rich ones who can pay, not only for a new McMansion, but one with a primo view.

Last chance to see. (Reference-getters please pipe up in the comments.)

Last chance to see. (Reference-getters please pipe up in the comments.)

Even though I don't enjoy painting buildings, I thought it was important for me to paint that barn, especially since I had captured that photo, and it begged to be recaptured in paint. So I've been poking at it all fall (and now winter). It's close to being done, in that there is little more that I can do that will improve it. I'm sure I'm not the only one in Felida (my neighborhood's feline name - another story) who feels as instantly nostalgic about this barn.

Not sure if I improved on the photo other than making it bigger.

Not sure if I improved on the photo other than making it bigger.

Here is my attempt at a barn. The Pleasant View Dairy barn. I may try it again with a little more style, but this one is what it is. And it will live on while the original is gone. Like a bad rock music lyric.