LIVING BRUSH FENCE AND COMMUNICATING

Living Brush Fence

(OK, I know what you are saying -- what the heck is this above photo all about? Hint -- this is a brush fence -- to get some perspective look for the black roof line above the fence.) 

When I recently moved to Vancouver, Washington I decided to take a short ride around my new neighborhood to get a feel for the area. I found the housing stock attractive in a sixties kind of way and very much into front yard lawnscaping.  There was a wide array from topiary to the wild natural look. 

While driving, a front yard fence caught my eye. It ran parallel to the front of its home. It acted as a privacy fence for the front facade of the house as it was about six feet high and ran the width of the property. The fence had a type of ivy growing all over it and appeared to be constructed with natural brush sticks. 

Then I saw a man on his knees working by the fence. I wanted to know about the fence so I stopped my car, approached him slowly, while smiling, and introduced myself.  

Looking closely at the configuration of brush fence

As I approached the kneeling man I noticed that the fence's brush sticks were woven in a weave like the warp and weft of an old coverlet. The green ivy leaves faced the street. Frankly I thought it quite beautiful. Definitely falling into the realm of some folk tradition. But what folk tradition?

Man I used sign language with  about the fence

The kneeling man rose to greet me. I could see he was cutting out some unwanted roots near a tree, I said, "could you tell me something about this wonderful fence?" He flashed his hands around until I got the idea -- he didn't speak English. At that point we started talking in a rather primitive sign language. I did ask him (with my hands) if he designed the brush fence -- and with that he went and stood in front of it. I motioned at him with my camera (usually have one handy) and he apparently understood  as he stood in his position until I got off five shots of him. Then I pointed to the fence and he nodded -- so I got off a few more shots of the fence. 

So then I departed with a nod and said thank you. Then he said these words to me, "thank you."  Spoken in clear English. I then thanked him again wondering if he really understood what just happened. Was the thank you  a result of me taking his picture? Or did he understand me but couldn't express himself in English but for these few words? I'll never know.  But in his way he was very hospitable. I want to believe that he constructed the fence but I'll never be able to say positively that he did. 

Communication can be difficult but maybe it all works out with a smile. But I am still scratching my head as to the traditional origins of this unusual fence. 

ADDENDUM:  Fortunately my mind clicked several months after I wrote this post and realized the fence in this piece is what is called a wattle fence. An old technique seldom found in the U.S. but popular in England. Here is a 2007 Washington Post article about wattle fencing.