The Fence Mender

Fresh Snow… Undisturbed… except by the horse tracks behind him and the sagebrush, like polka dots on a bed sheet, stretching to the mountains ahead. He’s alone but far from lonely as he rides up through the snow along a sagging fence line with the valley down below. Pausing where the wire is down this old fence mender looks around to see if he can find a clue of just what critter busted through. But fresh snow… Undisturbed covers any sort of sign except those horse tracks back behind. So he picks up the wire nails it back in its place under gray skies that cover this wide open space. Then the clouds split apart by shafts from the sun as if they’re God’s spotlight on a job that’s well done. Shadows shorten. Boot and horse tracks melt together as one and tight wire is all that’s left behind. Jeff Hildebrandt © 2004