This is a picture of my neighbor’s field to the north. This year he had planted wheat in it. This photo was taken after the harvest of the grain. I thought he might turn all of this stubble under and get another crop in the ground, but I don’t know much about these things.
The farmer regularly varies his crop in this field. When we first came to Roundrock, this field had been left fallow and was grown thick with all sorts of grasses. The came a crop of soybeans followed by corn. One year he kept horses out here so there was no crop. This year he had wheat.
The year he turned horses into this field, he had a crew go along the fence line and repair the barbed wire fence. They put in new posts here and there and cut trees and scrub away from it. (And they threw a bunch of the trunks onto my side of the fence. What was the point of that?) They also stretched new barbed wire in places where it had broken.
This was perhaps three years ago. As you can see from the photo above, however, the repairs didn’t last very long.
What causes a barbed wire fence to break? I suppose rust will do it in eventually. Rust never sleeps. And the tension on the wire to keep it taut probably increases the occasion of it snapping. But there are no livestock kept on either side of this fence now to rub against it. Could deer snap it as they leap over it and brush it with their dainty hooves?
There is no need for the fence along here unless my neighbor to the north is going to keep livestock again. But I like the idea of the fence since it defines the property line. There’s something fastidious in me that doesn’t manifest itself in the rest of my life, but it certainly shows up in my appreciation of fences.
- Cave-dwelling bats begin mating through October.