Fence | Odessa, WA | June 2019
Dad liked making improvements. So one summer he sent my brother and me to build a damn fence across our 10-acre field. Sweaty work for two pre-teen boys. We soon developed a combative relationship with our post hole digger. We dreamed at night about barbed wire (the stretching, the nailing, the infernal nicking). And we learned to coexist with newfound friends: snakes, fire ants, hornets and horse flies. Five decades later, I appreciate perfectly straight metal fences (in photo) stapled by machines across many miles of Eastern Washington. Does it make me want to plant more posts, string more wire? No way, no how.