Someone needs to stand up against the bully!
by Charlie Leck
I drove out into the countryside west of here the other day. I was taking the new dog to the vet for a booster shot of something-or-other. There is some lovely, rolling countryside along the highway out there and it was always a pleasure to look out over it, to remind myself once again what a remarkable artist God is.
To my surprise I saw that several new horse farms of generous size had been established out there. What a remarkable spot to pasture horses! The meadows are so remarkably beautiful on an autumn day and the reed grasses growing in the wetlands that spot the grazing land are incredibly variegated.
I was pretty shocked, however, to see the bright-white fencing that the owners had chosen. A sadness rolled over me and I shook my head as I drove on. Plastic fencing! They call it vinyl, you know, but, in reality, it is just a form of ugly plastic. White, plastic fencing ran around those gorgeous, natural, meadowland pastures.
My mind tried to recall something I had read in Patricia Hempl’s newest book. She’s one of the best writers in contemporary America and you’re missing a treat if you haven’t read her. What was it, though, I was trying to remember? I had to wait until I got home and then I leafed through the pages of the little book until I came upon it.
There it is:
by Charlie Leck
I drove out into the countryside west of here the other day. I was taking the new dog to the vet for a booster shot of something-or-other. There is some lovely, rolling countryside along the highway out there and it was always a pleasure to look out over it, to remind myself once again what a remarkable artist God is.
To my surprise I saw that several new horse farms of generous size had been established out there. What a remarkable spot to pasture horses! The meadows are so remarkably beautiful on an autumn day and the reed grasses growing in the wetlands that spot the grazing land are incredibly variegated.
I was pretty shocked, however, to see the bright-white fencing that the owners had chosen. A sadness rolled over me and I shook my head as I drove on. Plastic fencing! They call it vinyl, you know, but, in reality, it is just a form of ugly plastic. White, plastic fencing ran around those gorgeous, natural, meadowland pastures.
My mind tried to recall something I had read in Patricia Hempl’s newest book. She’s one of the best writers in contemporary America and you’re missing a treat if you haven’t read her. What was it, though, I was trying to remember? I had to wait until I got home and then I leafed through the pages of the little book until I came upon it.
There it is:
“…art… was life’s underdog. It needed someone to stand up for it against the bully forces of uncaring and plastic.”
What are people thinking? God’s precious landscape needs someone to stand up for it! Oh, how I rue the day that they invented vinyl fencing. It doesn’t fit the picture. Think about it! Gallant and graceful horses playfully galloping across the countryside with luscious, green grass beneath their hooves. In the background one can see the towering linden trees, maples, oaks and evergreens. The landscape is dotted with spectacularly colorful wetland areas. And scratched across the surface of this lovely picture, as if someone has taken a nail and dragged it roughly and sharply across the canvass, is grotesque plastic fencing.
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