Fences

Keeping in or keeping out?

Fences — Keeping in or keeping out?

This is a very good question. A brilliant question, in fact. It can be asked in many circumstances and for many reasons, for it is not always all that clear, this keeping in or keeping out.

Another good question, and one whose answer hints at keeping in or keeping out, is: Which way are the running-along-the-top spikes point?

Another question is: Who or what is the valuable commodity being fenced in either for its protection (or own good) or to prevent its escape?

Another question is: Who is the rabble to be kept out?

Some fences lie.

Some fences say we’re here to keep you out, while they’re there to keep their prisoners in.

Some fences aren’t even physical.

Some fences go by other names — Dogma being one of them.

Authority, Dogma’s cousin, another.

Some fences will, eventually, kill you. You need fresh air, or fresh views to live.

Other fences are quite subtle. When I grew up the local farmer deployed a single very thin, though shining wire as a fence, stretched for just about a mile all around the meadows surrounding our little cottage. It hummed a little if you put your ear close to it, and, heaven forbid, if you leaned too close and ear-touched it, well, the electricity nearly knocked you over and the silly ear would burn for a while.

I’m sure not all cows had experienced this electric wire, but somehow they all knew about it, and its dire properties; for in all the years (well, they were not than many, five I believe) we lived in that little cottage, surrounded by meadows and cows (and the smell of dung if the wind was right — or wrong, depending on current mood), I never, not even once, saw a cow leaning into or touching the electric wire, not even once. Cow-word so thoroughly out. How did they do that?

Dreams can sometimes fence you in, especially if you dream too hard and too narrow and will not look down any other road — you’re nailed to your dream.

Sadness not only fences you in but chains you to the great ocean of loss. Some people will do anything to escape sadness. Others will do anything to stay fenced in, to remain sad. Yes, some do. Think about it. Some people are unhappy unless they’re unhappy.

Honest.

Love can be a lovely fence or a terrible one.

When love is grand, fresh and green, and fragrant, it is a meadow you never want to leave. Willing prisoner. Happy cow.

When love is not so grand, when the one you love has stopped loving you back, or has left you, or has cheated on you, love grows teeth:

Electrified barbwire fence, now. One particularly fearsome love-maw is jealousy. Once Jealousy has staked out the fence, you’re in for it. A really bad case of jealousy will not let you sleep, will not let you eat, will not leave you alone, will conjure up the worst feelings known to our race, and will enjoy doing so. Electrified barbwire fence, jealousy.

Of course, some fences are just decoration; prettying up the front yard.

Others are so easy to skip that they don’t seem like fences at all, more like fun.

I own a fence called solitude. It is there to keep others out. It is a good fence.

© Wolfstuff

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