Tumbledown Fence

April 1, 2024

To me, Nantucket was always tumbledown fences. Covered in lichens, worn with wind and salt spray – grooved even – and a deep grey. Pieces broken, swinging in the wind as this broken one was with the 50mph gusts.  Held together by vines – ivy or rambling climber vines, or honeysuckle. 


You do not see as many nowadays.  This one is in town along a lane – possibly older than the house it wraps around as there was once a much older house there in the 1950s/1960s.  Taken down to make room for this one – in a not so kosher manner – but that’s a story for another day.


The lichens and mosses that grow on them, the vines that cover them, provide food and shade and coverage for a myriad of life – from the tiniest insects to small birds hiding from red-tailed hawks or even people and cats. 


Architecturally they speak of our past. While this one is very simple and not as old as others, it hearkens to a time in which cars were fewer, the island was quieter, and life was simpler. A fix was one picket not a whole fence. And some of the much. much older fences make me think of Maria Mitchell and her day when there were a lot of fences too – but not to keep people out or to create a “privacy screen.”  They were there to keep animals in the yard – and more often to keep wandering animals OUT of the yard.


JNLF

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