John’s wall rests out in the back field, quiet, sturdy, unassuming; blending with the landscape in a thoughtful, agreeable manner.
This wall is not egotistical or domineering. Most are generally built to prevent someone from coming in or going out, to hide something. They’re built to be rigid and unforgiving.
These carefully stacked stones are a comfortable height, softened by a rounded top, generously sharing views of the towering Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range to the west and the Wet Mountains to the east.
Built with layers of large river rocks thoughtfully laid one on top of another, it’s builder has designed a gentle curve in its over all length. The subtle curvature suggests a gesture of acceptance and flexibility, ignoring all the rules of a structure meant to intimidate and isolate.
It is a work in progress, free standing, with each end open and unattached, a simple quiet statement, unencumbered by any need for punctuation.
In between the larger rocks, nest smaller stones carefully inserted to fill any empty spaces. Perhaps insignificant in size, these little stones play an important part in helping to shore up the larger structure.
On my trips to Colorado, I head out to the back field, drawn to pause a moment at John’s wall.
I’m always pleased to see its mood hasn’t changed. Shutting no one in or out, its rocky arms are always stretched wide in quiet welcome.