Fluid Metal

Today, after school, I had an appointment in Manchester, a town between Bell Buckle and Sewanee through which I generally drive at 70 mph along I-24. I drove off the freeway and, within a couple of miles, found myself on a beautiful old street with fabulous late 19th-century houses. What caught my eye, though, was this beautiful fence, bent and scuffed with age but nonetheless standing.

I was mesmerized by its gentle and humble design and by its iron will. I felt as if the fence were offering me a life-lesson: withstanding whatever comes, being what I am in the moment without thinking about who I have been and who I might become.

Even if the appointment had been disappointing (and it wasn't), I would have taken away the beauty of fluid metal.