Fences have become tall. Too tall. There was a time when fences were built small. I’m sure you’ve seen one. It might be timber, palings painted white or uprights strung with a criss-cross of wire. Little fences are sometimes brick, three hands high, punctuated by small turrets with one housing a letter box. Sometimes a little fence marries a garden. Sometimes a garden is simply enough on its own. As I ride, I look… Read More