Fences

by Saralyn Richard

 

Do good fences make good neighbors? In the past few months, I’ve gained new neighbors on either side of my house. There’s a brand-spanking-new fence between my yard and that of the neighbor to the north. There’s no fence between my yard and that of the neighbor to the south. I love both sets of neighbors. We’ve shared lots of visits in our front yards, several barbecues and parties, baked goods, pets, children, home improvement advice, and more. They may be pine, and I, apple orchard, but I enjoy spending time with them and being part of their community.

Robert Frost’s MENDING WALL is one of my favorite poems. His last line is the source for my opening question. I find a lot of wisdom in this poem:

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:

I have come after them and made repair

Where they have left not one stone on a stone,

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

To please the yelping dogs. 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.

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

We have to use a spell to make them balance:

‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’

We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

Oh, just another kind of out-door game,

One on a side. It comes to little more:

There where it is we do not need the wall:

He is all pine and I am apple orchard.

My apple trees will never get across

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

The same analogy applies to my relationships with fellow authors in The Stiletto Gang. I may be police procedural and they cozy writers, but we have much in common, and we can help each other every time we meet to walk the line and re-build the wall (which might just be the website). I’m grateful for my neighbors, my Stiletto Gang colleagues, and everyone who reads this post. May all your walls be mended, and may all your neighbors be good.

Galveston Author Saralyn Richard

Award-winning author and educator, Saralyn Richard writes about people in settings as diverse as elite country manor houses and disadvantaged urban high schools. She loves beaches, reading, sheepdogs, the arts, libraries, parties, nature, cooking, and connecting with readers.

Visit Saralyn and subscribe to her monthly newsletter here, or on her Amazon page here.

 

12 replies
  1. Debra H Goldstein
    Debra H Goldstein says:

    Enjoy being neighbors. Completely agree with you on the Frost poem. I don’t like fences, though. In our last house, our neighbor to the left put up a fence for his dogs. We rarely saw them except for taking out the garbage and bringing in the mail. Our neighbors to the right planted trees and, like us, didn’t worry about the boundary line when our grandkids ran back and forth, when we waved hello from our patios, or when bbq wafted through the air. We treated our yards as an ongoing garden.

    • Saralyn
      Saralyn says:

      Sounds lovely, Debra. (And the dogs of the neighbor with the fence might have disrupted the back and forth between you and the other neighbors.)

  2. Barb Eikmeier
    Barb Eikmeier says:

    Love the Frost poem. My 7 yr old granddaughter has been with us for a few days and the weather fair enough for a walk in the woods to our next door neighbor’s pond where she skipped stones for the first time. She kept asking “Is it ok that we’re here?”
    I’m happy to be SG neighbors with you. Thanks for the thoughtful post.

  3. Donnell Ann Bell
    Donnell Ann Bell says:

    I love my neighbors. I’ve been blessed in both my long-term properties to have caring and watchful neighbors. My back yard has a fence that backs up to a berm. But the front yard is where everybody gathers, out walking, washing cars, or just being neighborly. I never knew a wave could be as comforting. Everyone waves here. It’s like saying, I’m okay, you’re okay. I don’t say it as eloquently or poetically as Robert Frost, but I hope you get the gist how much I agree with you, Saralyn.

    • Saralyn
      Saralyn says:

      Thanks for your comment, Donnell. Your mention of the power of the wave reminded me of how important waving was when our neighborhood dealt with the aftermath of a major hurricane in 2008. We were all working individually to clean up our own properties, but we’d wave to each other from our front yards, and those waves meant everything.

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