Tag: Fence

  • Fences & Neighbors

    Fences & Neighbors

    Fences & Neighbors (Geo Davis)
    Fences & Neighbors (Geo Davis)

    Many of us are familiar with Robert Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall“. In particular, this legendary refrain has become a sort of aphorism in the worlds that many of us inhabit.

    “Good fences makes good neighbors…” — Robert Frost, “Mending Wall”

    As an down-to-earth consideration of this metaphorical truth — one side spoken but unreflective and presumably intransigent, the other side less certain, wondering, questioning — the poem puts the reader in a queer spot. Perhaps both sides are familiar. Perhaps both the conviction and the questioning dwell within us. And yet we likely fall on one side or the other. Perhaps we allow the wisdom of the ages to guide us.

    The gaps I mean,
    No one has seen them made or heard them made,
    But at spring mending-time we find them there.
    I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
    And on a day we meet to walk the line
    And set the wall between us once again.
    We keep the wall between us as we go.
    To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
    — Robert Frost, “Mending Wall”

    Somehow we’re all too often willing to accept that reinforcing a healthy distance, insulating ourselves, separating and protecting ourselves will serve us well. Or at least it will avoid the risk of commingling and wandering and trusting and… And what?

    Near the end of the poem Frost offers a counterpoint to the deeply etched aphorism.

    Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
    What I was walling in or walling out,
    And to whom I was like to give offense.

    Fencing In/Out

    If uncertain who or what or why we’re fencing in and out, we still come up with reasons to reinforce delineating habits. Clear boundaries minimize disagreements. Clear boundaries underpin understanding and consensus. Borders, margins, limits yield the unknown known. Corralling and framing and stockading simplify and clarify. Yes. Usually. But at what cost? Who is hurt? Who is offended? What discourse and interaction is hemmed out?

    This evening I unwind a day of reminders that too often we follow the protocols of our forbears without pausing to wonder if they still serve us. Without pausing for compassion, to question whether they serve other, even those we assume that we are serving.

  • Mighty Winds

    Mighty Winds

    Not-so-formidable fence bludgeoned by maple limb, but mostly intact.

    Early evening, maybe 6:00 pm or so the skies darkened prematurely. I mean, really darkened. And the wind whistled then whipped. I blasted around the house battening windows and doors, cranked the shade umbrella contraption (what’s the proper name for those?) over the dining table on the back deck, and lowered the roman shades in the room where Griffin was napping in the hopes that he wouldn’t notice the rapidly approaching storm. Thunderstorms are enemy number one for our sensitive hound.

    Boom! The skies opened up and the rain lashed vertically at the house. I literally couldn’t see out the windows. Like being in a carwash that’s gone totally berserk.

    Lightning strobed and thunder exploded almost concurrently. Again. And again. Still nothing visible outside the windows, so I surveyed the house room-to-room for any windows I’d overlooked. None.

    https://twitter.com/RosslynRedux/status/1145698032698167297

    In the good news department, Rosslyn was incredibly fortunate. All buildings escaped the merciful wrath. Well, almost. Upon entering our master bedroom, I discovered water cascading from the ceiling. So that wasn’t ideal.

    Once the storm passed over Essex and out onto Lake Champlain I headed outside to survey the damage. Those photos destruction/debris photos were taken then (except for the one post cleanup photo in the Twitter post.) It was clear that some of the roof slate had been damaged and two areas of the roof allowed rain water to enter the building. I’m sure there’ll be more to say on this in the near future, but for now I’m chalking it up to, “It could’ve been worse!”

    Nobody ever died of optimism.

    In closing, a few more photos including a fence that literally blew over, snapping the fence posts, and a gate that yielded to the mighty winds.

    Testing twitter account