To me this little outbuilding is pure perfection...
Funny that I see it that way, seeing how we, (myself included) tend to think of perfection as everything exact and just so... straight lines, clean, pristine.... no flaws.
So why, when I look at this structure, with its peeling paint, patched and semi sunken in roof, and nary a straight line to be found ANYWHERE... why does it sing absolute perfection to me?
I think it sings to me because its got soul. It's lived. And all of its perceived flaws tell its story. This little shed is just infinitely more interesting then any new structure ever could be, and I am grateful for the lesson it helps to teach me about redefining perfection.