Stone Walls & Generations

Most of our land is bounded by stone walls. Acres were cleared by hand or perhaps with the help of a work animal. But at some point each stone was touched by human hands and piled - neatly, roughly, hurriedly, wearily - to mark the piece of the world that they would call their own. Then they raised up crops alongside a family, never knowing who or what would thrive or survive season unto season and beyond. Those stones, laid out in bounding lines two centuries back, are now patchworked with lichen. Black, gray, green patches now creep where calloused fingers once gripped. Echoes of memories of folks I never knew. Silent, solid irrefutable evidence of lives lived here long before we settled in.