Yesterday , as I was away working, my dearest the "First Sergeant" hung my little old gate and created a new piece of rock wall to partner alongside.
It leads into the back of the woods, which I fondly call the gateway to the "hundred acre wood" joshing of course ;)
We had purchased the fencing a couple of years earlier, from an old family homestead, seventeen original picket-fence panels, and one little gate.
We have used the fencing, all around the property, since there was not enough to completely fence the entire area.
It works well, a piece here, a few pieces there...
I understand the triumph and the truth
Wrought into these walls of rugged stone.
They are a miracle of patient hands,
They are a victory of suffering, a paean of pain;
All pangs of death, all cries of birth,
Are in the mute, moss-covered stones;
They are eloquent to my hands
O beautiful, blind stones, inarticulate and dumb!
In the deep gloom of their hearts there is a gleam
Of the primeval sun which looked upon them
When they were begotten.
So in the heart of man shines forever
A beam from the everlasting sun of God.
Rude and unresponsive are the stones;
Yet in them divine things lie concealed;
I hear their imprisoned chant:
~ The Song of the Stone Wall by Helen Keller 1910