I grew up in a house with a walled garden out the back door. It was in a city, a quiet part of a quiet city but still far more of a city than where I live now. I really loved the privacy, and beyond the privacy itself, I really loved the feeling of privacy while still being able to hear other people, while knowing they were just on the other side of a wall.

I don’t think it had anything to do with voyeurism, I didn’t listen in on these people. It had nothing to do with being invisible, they likely knew I was there. We’re social animals, so there’s a pleasure in knowing there are other human beings around, you know, incase something goes awry. 

But human animals are dangerous, so there’s a certain comfort in knowing that they’re seperated from you and must be invited in.

I’m considering building a privacy fence for my property. 
I’d rather live at the end of a dead end road, but I don’t, and I don’t really want to move, not ever. 
I’d prefer trees to a wall, but I’d also prefer a wall to waiting a decade for one to grow in place. Ultimately I’ll do both, a wall being the stop gap to get us through the indignity of natural growth. 

There’s something somewhat rude about building a wall, especially for our neighbors, who I quite like. It’ll change the vibe of Country Club Road when you drive past an AK-47 sign at Lee farm, a hand-painted Trump sign at the neighbors, and then a big fuck-off compound with a big gate and fences that reach 12’ high in places. 

Abby doesn’t like the idea, but it’s important to me. I do not like to be observed, I want to live in a walled garden, and I’m willing to both offend some people and pay a lot of money to do it. 

Not right now, of course. I lack the funds for that, and I’ll likely need to redo my roof, get solar, heat pumps, batteries, a deck, and a sauna before I build a wall but...I’ll do it.

I’ll definitely do it.