Crying Wind Homepage

from Volume 28 No. 2 September-October 2007

Stone Fences

I love stone fences. Whenever I drive through the country, I watch for farms that have old stone fences.

Some of the rock walls have endured the pounding rain, freezing snow and raging wind for over a hundred years. Cattle have pushed against them, horses have jumped over them and children have climbed on them but they are still standing. Some of the rocks have tumbled down and disappeared into the tall grass, but most of the rocks stay exactly where they were placed by rough, calloused hands.

Some of the stones are smooth and round, others are sharp and oddly shaped, no two are alike, and nothing holds them together but balance and weight.

Farmers used to clear the rocks out of their fields so they could plow the soil and plant a crop. Hitting a rock with the blade of the plow could break the plowshare and that was a disaster to a farmer. A plow was costly and expected to last a lifetime.

If the fields weren't cleared and plowed, they couldn't plant crops and they wouldn't have food to eat the next winter. Their survival depended on a good harvest.

The whole family labored together to clear a field, the older, stronger men and women carried the larger stones, stacking them in a row that would set the fence line. The younger, smaller children picked up whatever rocks they could carry and wedged them into the cracks and crevices in the wall.

Each spring, the family would clear the field again because rain would wash away the top soil and new rocks would be exposed. It was a never-ending job.

Over time, the families would come and go, move away, move on, or die. Crops would change from wheat to corn or the fields would be allowed to go to pasture, but the stone walls remained.

The stone fences stood for something. They were rough and crude and beautiful. They fenced a crop or animals in and protected them, they fenced out intruders and varmints. They marked a family's territory. This is OUR farm, OUR land, OUR home. We've dug in the dirt with our bare hands, bent our backs, bowed our knees and we've scratched, bruised, blistered and broken our hands. Our sweat, blood and love and labor built these stone fences.

Stone fences stand for something. It is important to stand for something.

Don't be lukewarm, don't be safe. Don't live in the middle of the road. Have an opinion. Be dedicated. Be passionate. Be excited. Be brave enough to be wrong.

Like some stone fences, it took a lot of people and time and experience and work to make us who we are. We might not be pretty to look at, we might be old and weather-beaten and have rough edges but we have strength and character. We should stand strong for our beliefs, our family, our homes, our friends and our country.

Stand for something so when people speak of you, they know you stand for values,honesty, decency, morals, faith, because these things endure...like a stone fence.