BETWEEN STONE & STEEL.

It felt strange today to walk along a boundary between the commons and farmland. On one side, the commons after the gathering were bare of sheep and on the other fields promising a hay crop (should the mid July weather get better). This boundary is interesting because the remains of the old stone wall still exists, yet the steel fence runs most of its length, with just a few feet of difference between the old and new.

 The age old, carefully built stone walls, built by those (probably long dead) are crumbling into dis-repair, but the steel fence a mere two feet away is also beginning to look elderly.

Rickety old fence posts, like loose teeth in a long jaw-line no longer even hold the most  recent fence in place. Many are lichened and show all the signs of deterioration, some are more, stand alone, unattached  to the fence and most definitely loose and rather wobbly but replaced by some cut down posts that are more sturdy and long lasting, good "old fashioned" telegraph poles. In this age of internet technology, the telegraph is now long dead. Some of the older fence is rusting, adding another colour to the dividing line that separates the at times, bleak seeming moorland from the rich landscape of lush pasture.

 We talk about recycling today as if it were a new concept, it's been going on for many generations before us. Some just didn't take care to refine their acquisitions of discarded telegraph poles and simply cut them down to fence post size and incorporated them into boundary fencing attaching the steel wire fence to these bastions of long lasting wood.

Along this boundary fence, there are examples of the tall and the short, the straight and the bendy, many of them covered with all sorts of lichens, they all continue to intrigue me.

As we ambled along the fence-line, an odd feeling today because the moorland after the gather was devoid of curious sheep and yet the air was alive with the sound of birds.

 Perching and singing, or preaching and warning it was hard to tell, but the air was alive with birdsong, a big contrast to the silent sentinels of "border control" ... the fence posts.
Meanwhile ... across the dividing line, several sheep were eating the (as yet) unmown hay .

One minute they were visible, the next hidden amongst the long growth, there still remained the boundary that existed between us, one of an old dilapidated, crumbling stone wall and a mixture of rusted wire and still shiny, more modern steel fencing. It was strange amble, caught between the old, almost forgotten stone building, the present use of steel and whatever modern expertise  exists in the future. One can only wonder what the future will hold? What new, unprecedented technology lies ahead of us?