Our neighbors recently built a wall between our two front yards. It was part of their re-landscaping, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t really come across as something to do with landscaping. Landscaping is colorful flowers, bushes, trees for shade, a nice new layer of soft, green grass, a water-efficient irrigation system to keep it looking beautiful, some pretty stepping stones, small, softly lit lanterns that call to the fairies to come visit secretly in the dark of the night. Okay, maybe I’m getting carried away with the fairies, but really, a dull, gray cinder block wall? Where exactly does that fit in? Putting a wall between our yards seems unfriendly enough, but this wall, while short in height and requiring little effort to step over, is like cold, standard prison issue.
And speaking of issues, yes, we’ve had some–mainly between our kids, who did actually play together frequently once upon a time. Ours are pirates, spies, and wizards; theirs are baseball players, soccer players, and basketball players. Short hairs and long hairs. Nerds (weirdos? bookworms?) and jocks. Ours question authority, the world, God; theirs answer “Yes, sir!’, follow law and order, go to parochial school (and, of course, church). Ours think they are supposed to keep an open mind and accept, even welcome differences (not that they don’t have to be reminded about that on occasion); theirs think there is only one way (you can probably guess whose way, too).
So this wall, probably nothing is meant by it. It’s likely just our own inference that they’re sending a message. But this cold, gray wall certainly doesn’t come across as an attempt to mend fences.
Hopeless rantaholic and passionate lover of witches and wizards, rock and roll, Dave Grohl and Foo Fighters, classic Disneyland, traveling when I can, wordsmithery, education, sarcasm, wiseassery, mocking humankind, and, above all else, my family.