image: Five Men, Seventeen Days, Fifteen Boulders, One Wall, @ Andy Goldsworthy, Storm King Center, 2010

Mending Wall (Robert Frost, 1912)

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father’s saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

Neighbours  (Norman McLaren, 1952)

I visited the Storm King Art Center several years ago; juxatposition of art and nature on a grand scale:

“Storm King Art Center is a 500-acre outdoor museum located in New York’s Hudson Valley, where visitors experience large-scale sculpture and site-specific commissions under open sky. Since 1960, Storm King has been dedicated to stewarding the hills, meadows, and forests of its site and surrounding landscape. Building on the visionary thinking of its founders, Storm King supports artists and some of their most ambitious works. Changing exhibitions, programming, and seasons offer discoveries with every visit.” Storm King Art Center

My grade school class was the “testing” ground for graduate students working on their masters in education. We had our reading levels assessed; I read at the college level. We watched a Norman McLaren film (possibly “Blinkety Blank “or “Hen Hop,”) then the “teacher-in-training” showed us how to create animated movies by scratching images on 35 mm film stock; I was not destined to be an experimental film maker.

Norman McLaren (1914 — 1987) was an award winning experimental Canadian film maker. “He was a pioneer in a number of areas of animation and filmmaking, including hand-drawn animationdrawn-on-film animationvisual musicabstract filmpixilation and graphical sound. (Wikipedia)” Neighbours won the 1952 Academy Award for Best Short Documentary.