My neighbor’s fence finally broke after a hard winter. The nice gentleman who lived next door took meticulous care of his yard. He planted beautiful flowers and grew fruit and vegetables. And always, he was diligent with the upkeep of the fence. In later years, he struggled to replace posts, and a few times, my husband or son would see him wrangling with a loose post. They would walk over and take on the heavier part of the task, all the while talking and sharing the work in a friendly way. When the gentleman passed away some years ago, his children and grand children took over the care of the yard. They didn’t have the same regard for the fence, and eventually, it broke in several places.
I never minded the broken fence. When it started to rot and fall apart, I loved it more. I thought it had character. The birds and squirrels still enjoyed it. I suppose it still kept the neighborhood kids from cutting across the yard. Just because it was old and broken didn’t mean it had lost its usefulness and beauty. It was just…different.
