The old fence was OLD. At least 35 years old…put up by Bob Wulbricht, a student of Baz’s from Thomas Jefferson College back in the late 1970s. Lanky, thoughtful, introverted Bob…printmaker, painter. Bob most of all loved his dog. But he must have loved Baz too because he worked gratis as I remember. I’m sure we gave him a mattress to sleep on, a couple of meals, maybe Baz paid him a little.
We couldn’t keep the fence longer. In its last years I believe it stayed up thanks to its vines. It was a battlefield among morning glory, Virginia creeper and wild clematis, winter clematis some call it. A rampant autumn blooming offspring of Baz’s small hybrid Jackmanii Clematis. Jackmanii blooms deep purple in early summer and is no match for these outlaws.
In the final years, the mob was invaded by English Ivy as well. And bulged as you can see in the raw struggle for real estate. Brooklyn vines! Once gone – our yard seemed a yard wider. Maybe it is. Baz is without regret. But I’m glad I have a photo. For me there’s always a loss when things are repaired
Agreed about the loss. I already miss the vines. They were O.K. Thanks for posting the link. I enjoyed reading the prose.