Lost Prospective, gained Perspective;

He stared up into the rafters of the old run-down barn, taking in the sight before him; With a sweeping glance across the sea of timber hues, his eyes were first drawn to a long, singular support beam running the horizontal width of the barn and seating itself firmly at the junction of the roof and the walls. A pale, crude piece of wood; with no sanding or dye or finish. Rough-hewn and irregularly shaped, it looked as though it had been carved by hand. Its surface was littered with holes and indents and chips – rather drill and saw marks, and cuts, for they were obviously man-made – on its' three observable sides for the entire length. Halfway across its length, in the middle of the barn, the convergence point just out of sight on the top face of the beam, were two more pale pieces of wood which stood out from the surrounding timber. Also pale and unfinished, though much more clean edged and faced than the aforementioned, also covered in man made protrusions into their surface from prior use, though only on two of their faces, they extended at 30 degree angles and attached themselves onto the lattice-work that supported the roof shingles from inside and underneath.

The barn was very old, and the shingles had begun to fall away in places leaving holes that the sun presently shone through, giving the roof-holes a bright white, almost surreal glowing appearance. Through some of the holes closer to the bottom of the roof, the brilliant green forestry of the trees just outside the barn could be seen, their branches swept back from a strong, steady breeze. It used to be a work shed, but had since been left as housing for the animals, to store feed and things while working on the surrounding acreage. He had come to the barn to sit amidst the straw, animal droppings and broken, old, outdated bits and pieces to consider what his next step might be. His father- a bitter reclusive curmudgeon who had long since alienated the people who were close to him and whom the man had not spoken to in a very long time- had finally died, passing peacefully in his sleep of an aneurysm. The man was out of country at the time and only found out after a lawyer and trustee of his fathers estate managed to contact him and tell him of what had taken place.

On top of the news regarding his death, the medical report and the funeral arrangements that had transpired, the lawyer informed him that in passing his father had left the entire estate, less small amounts to organize the wishes of his will after his passing. Aside from a reasonable sum of money, he had been left 12000 acres of farmland, and 73% of the shares of his fathers industrial pork farm and meat processing factory. It was because of all this, the lawyer informed him, that his immediate presence was required for questions that needed answering, and documents signing. So he cancelled the rest of his business, and began arranging to get himself home, speaking with clients and advertisers non-stop until he was on the plane a few days later. He know found himself at his childhood home, walking the grounds while trying to make a semblance of progress on this life changing decision.

It was an economically complex and multi faceted choice, and unfortunately after not being able to contact him for some time, people with vested interests were not-so-patiently anticipating updates. A couple of them even met him at the farm upon arrival, and were awaiting an answer back at the main house the estate. Growing up his father mentored him in the business end of things and he had gone on to run successful businesses in other industries: he was in his element, however the sheer size of the estate raised difficulties. In spite of his well versed nature on the subject matter the situation was taking a toll on him – judging from the most recent call with the investors, he was going to upset a fair few people no matter what he did. Reflecting on the immense gravity of his decision broke his deliberating, and he found himself so stressed he could no longer focus.

Tired and irritated, and coming to the conclusion a new vantage point was the antidote, he paced for a while, trying to decide where to go next. It was a day of important and lofty decisions;- and it brought a smile to his heavy mind that such lofty decisions be made from a loft. He stopped pacing and paused to internally smirk at this remark, before remembering something else; upon which he decidedly walked over to the back of the barn, to climb the ladder which leads to the loft floor, where he hoped to lay down in the bed that was there - if it was still there. He had found the barn to be a peaceful place for mulling things over in his youth, and so taken measures to be comfortable on his frequent visits. Having just remembered it was there, it was enough to draw him up to the ladder. On his ascent he took not of a pair of geese, sleeping in a nook under the loft, entwined on a bed of straw, their shimmering plumage rising and falling steadily with each breath.

Upon reaching the top of the ladder, he discovered a cat nursing her litter camped in his spot. As soon as his head had come into view over the edge, the mother had taken note of him, and seemed mostly untroubled by the intrusion; but she did not take her eyes off of him, and so he was careful not to disrupt the scene before him. Slowly creeping onto of the loft floor, staying on his hands and knees as he climbed off the ladder, he crawled up next to the litter and sat upright, resting his back on a bale of hay at the foot of the bed, and watched the kittens feed for awhile. There were 4 kittens in total, and as each of them finished feeding they came over to the new visitor to explore and play. The man greeted each of them as they came, let them smell and bite and climb on his extended had, and in that blissful moment his mind cleared.

The man had no idea how much time passed playing with the kittens, nor did he care to know, finding himself able to relax and stop stressing over the troubling problem of his decision for the first time since he heard about it. He started noticing previously unnoticed movement in the barn, and began scanning the room; Some of the farm animals had ventured into the barn and were going about their day. The man leaned forward towards the lofts edge, laying prone with his chin resting on arms folded in front, and settled in to watch the animals' morning unfold.

A male pig was treading a line back and forth, pacing for a while before walking over to the tub of water in the corner, but it didn't drink or bathe, just stood there staring at the debris floating on the surface. As he watched the pig it occurred to the man that it too seemed to be trying to make a decision. For what felt like a long time, the pig just stood there, its face a few inches from the waters surface, its eyes staring straight ahead. . No, that wasn't it - it was looking at its reflection! Can pigs do that? The man was stunned. “I've had a long week” he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes “Maybe I'm seeing things?”

The man looks around, eventually spotting another pig, a female, in the peripheral of the first one's gaze, separating clean straw from soiled straw to make a bed to lay in near the open door of the barn, out of the whipping gale but still in the sun. It was clear from the body language of the male pig that wherever his eyes may be, this is what his attention was focused on. As the man turned away he heard a splash in the water, and then a squealing that could only be described as laughter coming from the direction of the barn door.

Deciding the cuddly kittens were of more interest, the man turned back to play with them again. He Rolled onto his back and sat up, and a bright flash from the corner highlighted a large, intricate spider's web. It was the multitude of beads of moisture trapped in the web that had caught the sunlight and drawn his attention; and it was fantastical. He let the litter climb around in his lap, absentmindedly stroking their fur and scratching behind their ears, Once again losing track of time and ego as he stared at the patterns in the web reflected into fractal infinity by the droplets. . .

A sudden ruckus broke the serenity. The male pig was getting up off the ground a ways from the tub, having somehow acquired a dirt and straw beard. The female pig fell on her side squealing with delight and running her legs in the air; and the man remarked to himself that this movement was remarkably similar to something a dog he had in his teens used to make when dreaming. The sudden, loud honking sound from the male goose in its nook joining in the laughter startled our newly bearded pig, who twisted himself wildly in the direction of the sound. As realization set in, the pig squealed with outrage “SQUEEE!” and began charging at the goose - who close to the last moment jumped up and opened its wings, pushed off the pig and flew out of the barn, careening him into the other goose who immediately began wrestling to get out from under him. The pig sprung up and gave chase to the goose, jumping over the female pig who was still rolling with laughter, an ever present backdrop to the angry “SQUEEE!”'s and impish “Honk!”'s half drowned out by the wind, which continued for quite some time. After a few minutes the female pig settled, laid on her clean pile of straw and sprawled out to nap. The man shook his head and, having said his goodbyes to the kittens and the spider's web and the goose still inside un-ruffling its feathers, made his way out of the barn, chuckling to himself. He thought on it for a while longer before he was certain, but his mind was already made; he knew what he had to do.

He would keep the animal farm as a sanctuary- the factory would have to go. He didn't know what he was going to do with the animals, but he had decided that those animals had enough life and soul in them that nothing should be done with them at all; He couldn't be a part of it. The thought of slaughtering that impish goose, or that infatuated pig for food seemed abhorrent. The idea of eradicating the strays and spraying the spiders, made him ill after his connection with them in the barn – he thought to himself “they're just trying to live their lives, like anything else. Like me.”

His company would suffer losses: but he decided that for now he could afford the losses. Given the size of the farm, he was quite sure he wouldn't even need to downsize - The farm had fruit, vegetable, grain and sugar exports too, all of which did well; they could expand, absorb the workers from the meat district. At least for the time being it would cover the costs. The investors wont be happy, but as far as he was concerned, what they were losing was nothing to what was being gained.