I have always respected private property in the way a child respects a hot stove; never wishing to experience the possible negative effects of ignoring either the warning against little hands touching red-hot coils, or little feet trespassing on neighbors’ fields.
Not everyone feels the same way, alas.
The two ponds up on our hilltop pastures are a siren call to someone in the neighborhood; some disrespectful sort of folks who’ve fished them, cut the rope to the bucket holding the windmill aerator stone, left their beer cans and trash, and now, they’ve torn down the “posted” signs.
It isn’t like the place is deserted. Bobby goes up on the hill several times a week, drives around the pastures, picks up fallen branches, checks on the equipment stored under tarps, and mows the pastures every other month or so. Drives him crazy that someone would brazenly stomp around up there like no one cares, like we’d never posted any signs. He thinks it’s kids and they’re relatively harmless, but still it bothers him, as it does me.
We’ll replace the signs when we’re out there in May, and I’ll speak to the neighbor about putting a new lock on the gate that provides access from his pastures to ours. It would probably be a good idea to file a complaint with the sheriff as well, to get the issue on record.
I’d sure like to know who it is, maybe even bump into them while we’re there. A good face-to-face discussion about private property rights after a friendly introduction as the owner of the farm might be all it takes. I can feel my dander gettin’ up already.
Thistledog's Farm 