Barn raising

Some five or six score’s worth of years ago, some hearty souls built the barn on my property. Close inspection of the workmanship reveals joints pinned together with wood pegs, oak logs tenon’d into tight mortises, massive beams squared by hand drawn knives, and a framework that stretches upward past varied height lofts to a ceiling well taller than most McMansions built today.

Barn raisings were not uncommon in the late nineteenth century. Neighbors would gather and help with the all the toils of framing, lifting, squaring, erecting, siding, painting. . . . Massive oaks were felled and turned into the beams and joists that would support farm activities for generations.

The trees were not hard to find as much of south central Michigan was oak savannah – lightly forested grasslands with oak trees as the primary timber. (There is a pretty good article in describing Midwestern savannahs here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oak_savanna#History)

It is not unusual to see a lone, mature standing oak in the middle of a farm field while driving through Midwestern farm country. I remember asking an old timer why a particular tree was left in the middle of a large wheat field. His answer: “they didn’t need it for a barn.”

The Blackdog Bog is a sixteen acre section of my farm that is permanently enrolled in the Wetland Reserve Program. This program, part of the USDA and originally enacted during President George Herbert Walker Bush’s term as president, purchases easements on marginal farmland and supports the restoration of the land to as near pre-settlement status as possible. Ten years ago, under the guidance of a former colleague and forever friend, Kathy Kos, the easement was secured, permits negotiated, engineering plans approved, and dirt began to move.

Some 20,000 cubic yards of dirt were excavated to create three ponds that are collectively just over four acres in surface area. After that excavation, native grasses were sown on the upland areas and, over the last few years, friends and I have planted over 300 trees.

A lion’s share of the of the funds I received for selling the easement went back into the barns – boards were restored, beams shored up, the exteriors were power washed and painted, and a couple got new metal roofs. Maybe it is the romantic in me, but I like to think that once again, the land provided the resources for a good old fashioned barn raising.