I am a writer who lives on a farm, not a farmer. But some of my closest friends are farmers. One of the many lessons of the farm is community. It is important, no one with a farm can run it well entirely by themselves, or deal with every emergency, storm, crisis, or animal catastrophe or mishap by themselves.

We are all in the same boat, we all help one another. We learned that again today, when our farrier, Ken Norman, who I have known for more than a decade, noticed our gate was a potentially dangerous mess, gathered his supplies and spent the morning fixing in.

Shortly after he left, we noticed a break-out: the notorious Zelda, who had led two earlier breakouts when we first moved in and before the fences were finished, struck again, she and Liam had nosed under the rear pasture gate – wire, not fence – and were out in the back pasture, munching happily on the last of the grass..

Red came into the pasture with me and was shocked his eyes widened and he headed towards the back gate (Lulu’s Crossing) and Zelda, no dummy, came charging back in. This was her mistake, since I could see just where she had nosed apart two wires that had loosened over time.

It is almost impossible to charge the rear pasture fence as water and marsh runs right underneath it and the charges flood and short-circuit. There is thick underbrush all along the rear fence – it is not passable for sheep or ponies – but a 20 foot stretch, it seems can be pushed apart enough for a sheep to get through. Electric fences are tough for sheep because they don’t feel a charge unless they touch it with their noses, their wool protects them.

As we were tightening wires, putting up temporary fencing and planning to haul a big load of rocks back there, Ed Gulley showed up to collect his art from the Open House. He took charge right away, tightening the wires with a plier and spotting an old boiler on the other side of the pasture. He went over and hauled it down to the break-out spot – Ed is monster strong – and put it right behind the spot where Zelda got out.

With the tightened wires, boiler barrier, new mesh fence and strategically placed brush and tree limbs, we sealed off the weak spot completely, nothing could really get through there. This evening, before coming into the house, I watched as Zelda and her fellow trouble-maker tried to find their way in. They were completely stymied and gave up. A good feeling, until the next trouble.

Ed Gulley always seems to be here or close by when there is trouble. He was here when the bear in our pasture had to be shot, and took the body away,  he came to take Deb’s body away when she died, he showed up today just as we needed him. Community is like that, it always seems to be here when needed.

But the message of community was clear – people with farms help other people with farms, it is part of an ancient code, my farm always teaches me the power of community, and the necessity for it.