The weather stays its course: grey, calm and damp. There is no wind to roil the water in the pond. I wandered about the lawn thinking about the stone fences that cross-cross the lot, going up the hill and following the creek.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
… Robert Frost, Mending Wall, 1914
Where do you stand on the subject of walls?
Sunday, day 6, 2012