The old farmhouse of my memories opens to a wide front porch supported by traditional posts and near a double clothesline strung between two trees.
The front yard is enclosed by double looped wire fencing strengthened by connecting boards.
On the SW corner next to the lane is a corner post which is my perch whenever I need to be alone to cry, mope or dream.
Such are my memories of home.
A corner post and its braces are the most important point of any fence. They are larger and set deeper to withstand the strain of supporting the fence line. A simile for parenthood?
(My corner post photo is one I took on a walk at Green Valley State Park the first of November.) ⌛
No comments:
Post a Comment