Gates

Symbolic things, gates, aren't they?  I mean, they stop people&animals from coming in, and also from escaping.  We have wooden gates on our driveway and in the evening it is rather nice, I must admit, to be closing them.  I feel like I'm closing off the world from our little abode, which is a degree safer.  Of course that's all in my mind, since I don't lock them and are they easy for anyone to open.  But all the same it always feels good - like a closure to the day.  In the morning one of the first things I do is open them - and it's kind of saying Hello to everyone else again, We are open for business.  Mind you, although it doesn't feel particularly bad to open them I can't say it gives the same pleasure as when I close them at night.  Funny that, isn't it?

I have a bit of a thing for old gates.  Modern gates you see in the country nowadays tend to be strictly functional - galvanised, plain, built in a factory to a cost.  Old farm gates were things of beauty, all ironwork and sometimes with fancy little turns - mostly made by skilled craftspeople.  I have my eye on quite a few around here that need capturing - strictly on film, of course!  The old ones are probably not much longer for this world (in their present form, anyway) - most are rusty, neglected and in the process of being reclaimed by Mother Nature.

These are the gates from the run-down cottages of the last few posts.  In spite of the fact that the owner has put a modern chain around them (albeit nicely camouflaged in B&W) you can still get a feeling for their former glory.  Quite lovely, methinks, even in their current state of decline.

Nice!

It'll be a shame when one day some Big Lig comes by in his yellow digger and tummels the whole caboosh, gates and all.  But at least they will live on in this blog - for a while, anyway!