Robert Frost. What he can do with words. This post contains bits and pieces of his poem mixed with my photos of an old rock wall. In Northwest Arkansas, you just never know where you will stumble across one. Can you imagine all the hard work that went into building it?
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.