Country diary: Everything about the old onion barn is out of reach
Written by Derek Niemann from the Guardian
Sandy, Bedfordshire: This collapsing structure is fenced off and offers tantalising glimpses of the area’s onion-growing heyday
Every derelict farm building houses tangible memories of lost lives or livelihoods. A chipped teacup from the last cuppa, a key without a lock, a horseshoe on the floor of a Hebridean blackhouse. Abandoned, discarded and forgotten objects spark my imagination with stories that can become more real than the buildings themselves.
Ever since the pandemic began, I have puzzled over one such object in a tumbledown ruin a 10-minute walk from my house. Before then, the onion barn – a two-storey weatherboarded wooden structure – had rarely received more than a sideways glance from the wheel of my car, for it was marooned on the shoulder of a dual carriageway. But when the rivers of traffic ran dry during the first lockdown, the A1 reverted in character to the old Great North Road, and the approach of a vehicle became an event. My daily exercise sometimes took me along the verge to the fence around this barn, a rare survivor out of dozens that sprang up in the 19th century, during Sandy’s onion-growing heyday.
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Written by Derek Niemann from the Guardian
Sandy, Bedfordshire: This collapsing structure is fenced off and offers tantalising glimpses of the area’s onion-growing heyday
Every derelict farm building houses tangible memories of lost lives or livelihoods. A chipped teacup from the last cuppa, a key without a lock, a horseshoe on the floor of a Hebridean blackhouse. Abandoned, discarded and forgotten objects spark my imagination with stories that can become more real than the buildings themselves.
Ever since the pandemic began, I have puzzled over one such object in a tumbledown ruin a 10-minute walk from my house. Before then, the onion barn – a two-storey weatherboarded wooden structure – had rarely received more than a sideways glance from the wheel of my car, for it was marooned on the shoulder of a dual carriageway. But when the rivers of traffic ran dry during the first lockdown, the A1 reverted in character to the old Great North Road, and the approach of a vehicle became an event. My daily exercise sometimes took me along the verge to the fence around this barn, a rare survivor out of dozens that sprang up in the 19th century, during Sandy’s onion-growing heyday.
Continue reading...
Since you’re here …
… we have a small favour to ask. More people are reading the Guardian than ever but advertising revenues across the media are falling fast. And unlike many news organisations, we haven’t put up a paywall – we want to keep our journalism as open as we can. So you can see why we need to ask for your help. The Guardian’s independent, investigative journalism takes a lot of time, money and hard work to produce. But we do it because we believe our perspective matters – because it might well be your perspective, too.
If everyone who reads our reporting, who likes it, helps fund it, our future would be much more secure. Support the Guardian – it only takes a minute. Thank you.