I have fences on my land, or maybe just the remains of fences, because they don't confine anything.
Not even the trees.
This stretch of fence was clearly meant to prevent the cows from falling down the bluff, which is even steeper than it looks here.
This part is on the other side of the ridge, dividing two slopes of what's now woods and was once pasture, although marginal pasture.
The strand running diagonally from lower left to upper right is broken. Not surprising after many decades. Some of these trees were there when the wire was run, but most of them have grown into it without human help.
Looking uphill along the fence.
None of these pieces of fence meet up, and I don't have a clear idea of how the pastures were divided when they were in use.
Sometimes a fence is just a fence, I suppose. I liked your title pun. :)
ReplyDeleteI just love wandering through an old pasture. There's something about it, especially in the spring with all the new growth. The fallen-down fences add to the whole beauty of the season.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Hilary. Praise from a master : )
ReplyDeleteRedbush, at this time of year, before the undergrowth greens up, you can see the shape of the land under the trees, and you can see the paths the cows made following their favorite routes. I think they're still there because the dirt was packed down so hard the trees didn't take root there.