Fences are made for one reason: protection. I grew up in the country on a small farm, so I know the importance of fences. Their protection serves a two-fold purpose; to keep something in, or to keep something out. Despite what they’re made of, how pretty they are, how strong they are–the singular purpose of a fence is protection.
I recently walked up to a fence and rested against it. The fence didn’t waver or move. It’s a sturdy fence constructed of wide, evenly spaced slats nailed firmly to solid, square posts that are sunk deep into the earth. Because I had helped to build the fence—because I knew details about its construction—I also knew several facts about this particular fence. I could stand on the fence, climb the fence, sit on the fence, lean against the fence; that fence was not going to collapse. It was a fence I could trust to fulfill its purpose and serve as my own personal settee or jungle gym as needed. There was not a “No Trespassing” sign on the fence. There was no need for one. The property on this side and that is mine, though I have nothing pressing to take me to the other side of the fence any more—no business to conduct or work to do over there. I had, for all practical purposes, forsaken that part of the property. So, I simply walked up to the fence, rested my arms against the top slat, and looked at the land that lay beyond. . .