Even a Pretty Fence is Still a Fence

Grill Work

A Pretty Fence is Still a Fence © 2012 Bo Mackison

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

There was a time I thought that fences kept people safe.

Fences also kept gardens safe from critters and animals safe from speeding cars traveling too fast on highways.

Then I listened to a woman who had moved from New York to a rural area in southeast Arizona. She was lamenting the cussedness of birds determined to feed from her green garden. That, despite the wire fences she had installed around the garden perimeter and the netting she had arched from the top of the fence – a roof of sorts – over her tempting vegetables.

I turned away to study the art in the gallery. I couldn’t help but smile as she told of the thieving Gambel’s Quails’ and Roadrunners’ antics as they dined four times a day, courtesy of her bountiful garden.

I imagined the birds’ antics as she described them in detail. “The quails fly straight up like a helicopter, then they squeeze between the wire fence and the netting, and land in the midst of the luscious greens.” She described how the roadrunners were the sneakiest trespassers of all, but their antics to get into this Fort Knox style vegetable garden surpassed my understanding.

However, the ex-Manhattan-stock-broker-turned-country-vegetable-gardener, apparently knew the secrets of those ransacking roadrunners who watched her from mid-garden as they nibbled their lunch, waiting until she was just close enough with a broom before disappearing.

Did the birds have no fear? Just instincts, determination, and a plan?

I wish I had been able to follow all the details, because I wanted to hear about the birds’ escapes. I’m not privy to how these intelligent birds had a their own passport to the private garden. But they apparently they had at least an equivalent.

There are few fences on the open range, even when roads pass through. There are cautionary signs — “Range Animals. Be Aware.” I seldom see an animal venture on the back roads I travel. They are in the thorn scrub and grasslands, eating whatever they can find. They don’t graze on dirt roads. I have seen cattle amble across a road, but never linger. Better to walk amidst the grasses and eat while roaming the scrub.

Perhaps I don’t need the fences I erect around myself to keep safe, either.

It feels better to have free range and not be cooped up in an imaginary safe place. After all, even surrounded by the best of fences, those that want to get in — quails and roadrunners, for example — have their ways.

And now back to the quote that started me thinking about fences on this clear morning in southern Arizona.

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

A Pretty Fence is Still a Fence

Grill Work

A Pretty Fence is Still a Fence © 2012 Bo Mackison

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

There was a time I thought that fences kept people safe, kept gardens safe from critters, kept farm animals safe from cars speeding on the highways that cut through on their way to someplace important.

Then I listened to a woman who had moved from Manhattan to a rural area in southeast Arizona. She was discussing the cussedness of birds who remained determined to feed from her green garden despite the wire fences she had installed around the garden perimeter, despite the netting she had arched from the top of the fence, like a roof, over her precious vegetables. I turned toward the art in the gallery so she didn’t see me smiling broadly as she told of the thieving Gambel’s Quails and Roadrunners who still managed to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, and frequent snacks from her garden.

I had a hard time imagining the birds’ antics as she described them. The quails could fly upwards like a helicopter, then squeeze between the wire fence and the netting, and drop gently into the midst of her luscious greens. She described how the roadrunners were the sneakiest trespassers of all the birds, but their antics to get into this Fort Knox equivalent of a vegetable garden was far beyond my understanding. However, the ex-Manhattan-stock-broker-turned-country-vegetable-gardener, apparently knew the secrets of those ransacking roadrunners who watched her from mid-garden as they nibbled their lunch, watched until she was just close enough with her broom. Then they disappeared.

I do wish I had been better able to follow the story, because the parts I really wanted to understand — all the escapes — were told with few details. I don’t know how these industrious and obviously intelligent birds had a passport to the woman’s private garden. But they did.

Was it that they had no fear? Just determination and a rudimentary plan?

There are few fences on the open range, even when roads pass through. There are cautionary signs — “Range Animals. Stay Aware.” There are no signs for the cattle, obviously, and yet I seldom see one on the back roads I travel. They are in the thorn scrub and grasslands, eating whatever they can find. Apparently they are usually smart enough to understand there is little food to be found on dirt roads. I have seen cattle amble across a road, but not too many walk on the roads as their means of transportation. Better to walk amidst the grasses and eat while cruising along. Seems these cattle don’t need fences to keep them safe from cars. Perhaps drivers are sensible enough to realize that a several hundred pound animal can inflict costly damage on vehicles.

So, perhaps I don’t need those fences I erect around myself to keep me safe, either. It feels better to have “free range” and not stay cooped up in what I thought was a safe place. After all, even surrounded by the best of fences, those that want to get in — quails and roadrunners, for example — have their ways.

And now back to the quote that started me thinking about fences on this rainy-snowy morning in southern Arizona.

Fear is the highest fence. ~ Dudley Nichols

——————-

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. Lately she has spent some time thinking about fencing creatures in and fencing creatures out. All kinds of creatures — four legged, two legged, with wings…

Snow Fence

Beach and Lake Michigan Beyond

Beach and Lake Michigan Beyond

The color of springtime is in the flowers, the color of winter is in the imagination.  ~Ward Elliot Hour

This quotation is so true. When I look out from my window, I mostly see my neighborhood dressed in winter’s white, and rather a worn white it is this far into the season. I find I turn inward and let my imagination soar.  I imagine beyond what I can see, and take myself on many pleasant trips as I write.

Obscurity

Fence and Fog

Fence, Fog © 2008

Life is a brief, small, and transitory phenomenon in an obscure corner, not at all the sort of thing that one would make a fuss about if one were not personally concerned. ~~   Bertrand Russell