Fences–Monday Meanderings


Today, walking the dogs through the neighborhood with my camera, a subject caught my attention: Fences.

I saw a variety of designs and purposes: both utilitarian and decorative.

A few appeared to be for the purpose of keeping things in: dogs, horses, mulch, flowers:

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

 

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

One was clearly built with the sole purpose of hiding something unattractive: an HVAC system or utility box:

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Many were obviously there to keep things out: other people or animals such as bears (not out of the question here in the Sierras during these days of drought):

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

And then there were those that contributed to the overall beauty or character of the house:

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

They can even serve to hold things up:

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

 

Fences are powerful metaphors, and it’s fairly easy to apply them to human behavior. I won’t go into detail because you will figure it out yourself.

I’m going to post an older poem of mine about fences and invite you to join in with one of your own. A short story or essay would be great, too. You can either use the Mr. Linky icon below or add the direct URL to your work in the comments. Feel free to use any of these photos–but I would appreciate the credit for them if you do!

Boundaries 

Why do we build fences? They can’t hold out wind,

or leaves that flutter from neighbors’ yards into ours.

 

A flock of quail descends into our spent garden and feasts,

pilfering seeds that would have been fertile in the spring.

 

Remember the night raccoons purloined our koi?

Or how in summer we lay awake, listening to the long,

 

long, short, long whistle of the trains, into, out of Reno, dragging loads

of who-knows-what to destinations east and west? Sound’s intrusion.

 

Tonight, my fears are not of robbers or of things that harm.

What scares me most is what’s within—the limits of closed minds.

 

Have a wonderful week of writing and life. On Thursday, I will be hosting Meeting the Bar over at dVerse and hope you will show up there with a poem of your own. A short clue to get your muse in gear…patterns.

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8 thoughts on “Fences–Monday Meanderings

  1. Jamie Dedes says:

    This is charming! Fences have so many “faces” if you will. Big smiles here.

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  2. lynndiane says:

    My post is probably more essay than poetic…i took the view that some boundaries/borders are necessary but that doesn’t mean we cannot open gates 🙂 Lovely photos and thoughts you offer here, Victoria!

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  3. Pamela says:

    Victoria, closed minds are the worst thing in life. Nice poem and pics.

    Pamela

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  4. Gorgeous photos, V! Around where I live, we have endless old stone fences. I presume they were created by laborers as they cleared fields for planting crops that were inhospitable to crops (given all the rocks and stones!). I find the stone fences both beautiful in their uneven and winding posture and forlorn given the pain and determination that went into creating them. One thing is for sure–they withstood the test of time and the elements.

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  5. scillagrace says:

    I can only think “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall….” from Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall”.

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  6. brian miller says:

    it is definitely the walls we create that choke us out…that keep us apart that scare me the most….i know quite a few closed minded people though i would much rather not spend my time with them…

    Like

  7. I really enjoyed your poetry here.. and the pictures are so nice. Sometimes I find that fences can be beautiful even if they are not intended to be.. but the symbol of what a fence can be… yes that’s great as metaphor.. I will think about that one. I have linked an old poem (that you have already seen) on fence. But it’s about those borders and what they can mean.

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  8. I enjoyed your pictures – they. don’t go in for pretty fences in this part of France – all ultra utilitarian. And I liked your poem, but reckon you could have gone further with it. Oh how difficult to deal with are those folk with closed minds.

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