Some people go to church every Sunday. We milk a Jersey cow named Lucy every Sunday. A week ago there was a frost and a lot of tomatoes once destined for the market were lost. Where can the bounty go before its lost? If there's no room in the market all the bounty that seeks a recipient, then maybe across the street or in the parking lot or around the corner. Is there a parallel to the origins of a black market? Also, the butterfly lady says right on the edge of Levy Road is where she finds a concentration of butterfly eggs. That's why you see her there floating along next to the fast moving cars. She is spotting tiny eggs on host plants and transporting them to the safe haven of her house.

Seems like every time you put a fence around something there is actually the potential for something else. I have been thinking a lot about margins, borderlines, or transition places. Think about the weeds that grow next to the crop you planted. Purslane, for instance, Rufus pulls it out with a vengeance. But then there is that salad Savilia makes that tastes so good and feels so nourishing.

As things get fenced in, is there potential on the outside? Is there more than salvage to be had? What is the real purpose and the real strength of those fences?