Across the street from the high school are a pony and a couple of burros. They are new to the neighborhood.
But what is striking is the fencing, heavy and tall, barring access between the animals and passing humans. Even ones with only a benign camera in hand.
While road construction makes our usual route next to impossible, we take a little detour and see this pinto and bay in a barred corral in the back yard of this home. Notice the dog going into the house through his private door in the photo on the right?
Meanwhile, the bay is thinking, Maybe I'll get up and see what this camera-person is doing here.
Or then again, maybe not.
Lots of people in the city limits of South Jordan seem to own horses.
And the tall fences, of wire, or steel mesh, or bars, or poles, are ubiquitous, of course.
After I drop my son off, I have an hour to kill. Instead of sitting in my car as usual, reading, I'm going to show you a little of our surroundings and take you through the construction.
First, this is the building where he has had classes when on this campus.
And this is the LDS Institute building across the street where he takes a religion class each semester. He likes those as a break from heavy academics, and as a place to socialize with like-minded people.
A little ways further down here is a huge pasture with a herd of sheep and a herd of goats. Today they were on the far side of the pasture, so I did not photograph them. All you would have seen was white dots.
This lone buckskin horse is getting crowded by his owner's recreational vehicles, woodpiles, and lots of other junk being stored in his pen.
These poor people have been enduring over a year of their street and front yards being torn up.
You should have seen the mess during the winter, when everything was mud, mud, mud.
Wouldn't you just love a port-a-potty in your front yard?
Not to mention all the heavy equipment, and the stray pieces of concrete, the giant dumpsters, huge pieces of pipe, etc.
Sometimes the people cannot park even in their own driveways.
That's Mt. Timpanogos still snow-covered in the background.
There are four goats in this pen, one light (with the horns, against the wall) and three dark.
In the winter, every morning they'd hug the wall to get any warmth it absorbed from the rising sun.
In the summer, they crawl into their dog houses and rest in the shade.
We arrive home and notice how much the little honey locust has budded out.
This tree was a gift to my husband from our daughter and granddaughter for his birthday, and it suffered hugely when our previous neighbor sprayed it with a powerful herbicide. It died right down to a foot above the ground! Another neighbor told us when buds came out on the trunk to train one up from near the ground, so that is what we did, and now we have a tree that is looking pretty respectable again.
I realize this last picture has little to do with the theme of fencing the rural within urban areas, but perhaps if I quote Robert Frost's "good fences make good neighbors" I can draw an analogy and tie in the animals--we tame our little piece of wilderness within suburbia, and when our neighbors prove wilder than we like, we heighten the fences and hope for the best.