What's so beautiful about an old dilapidated tobacco barn? It's hard enough to find tobacco barns standing let alone one made from logs. I love how nature is reclaiming the old barn one log at a time. The rain starts to rust the metal roof turning it a rusty brown and eventually the roof falls to the ground. The honey suckle and trumpet fines take over slowly covering the whole structure. It will soon be gone with nothing left but a memory. It had to be painted.
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