My wife, Betty, is walking on air this afternoon. I mean,
clicking-her-heels-three-times-in-the-air happy. Turning-somersaults-with-glee pleased.
The orange fence is down.
The orange fence first went up in mid- September 2014 as our foundation was being prepared. Double-click any photo to see an enlargement. |
The fence appeared in mid-September of last year as workmen
began preparing the site of our new home for its foundation. We had gone through a two-month permitting
process that ended with the issuing of an Order of Conditions, or OC by our
town’s Conservation Commission.
The OC is a lengthy document that spells out what the
builder, landscaper, and homeowner much do to preserve the area beyond the
immediate house. Because our home would
abut wetlands, the OC was quite specific about preventing the construction
process from encroaching on those wetlands.
A silt barrier |
Specifically, the OC called for the placement of a 300-foot-long
silt barrier to keep construction debris and landscaping materials from
spilling over into land that we own, but cannot alter. The silt barrier, in
turn, is a continuous tube of straw-stuffed plastic netting. It does an excellent job of keeping Bad Stuff
on one side of a line while keeping the other side of the line pristine.
To mark that silt barrier for all to see and respect, the OC requested that we put up a four-foot-high orange fence.
For those of you reading this who know Betty - and
especially those of you who have seen her do her superb container gardening
demonstrations – you know that she dislikes orange.
No, dislike is too mild a word to describe her feelings on
the subject. ‘Hate’ is not too strong a word.
‘Abhor’ is just about right. We
have no orange flowers in our garden. Orange is anathema. Why? Betty says the color orange stops the eye in a garden. That's the way it is.
The orange fence disappeared under the snows of winter, only to return with the spring melt |
And so, every time we visited the construction site as the
house rose from the ground, Betty would avert her eyes. Then, winter came and, for a while, the fence
was buried. But in March it reappeared;
a specter of bad taste, a blot on an otherwise beautiful piece of property.
We moved into our new home in April, but the fence remained. Every time Betty looked out our back windows,
the fence was there, shouting out its unwanted presence. Why did it stay? Because the OC specified that final grading
for landscaping must be ‘substantially complete’ and hardscape items like our
patio and driveway must be in place.
A Jack-in-the-Pulpit planted at the woodland edge is just one of dozens of natives we added |
With the bringing in of loam in May and the construction of
the patio and driveway in June, we neared our compliance goal. We purchased dozens of native and woodland
shrubs and other plants to blend our property into the woodlands beyond. Betty tagged each plant so there was no
question that it added to our standing as Stewards of the Land.
This afternoon, Leslee Willitts, our town’s Conservation
Commissioner, came to pay a call. She is
a wonderful and knowledgeable lady who shares Betty’s scorched-earth policy on
the subject of invasive plants.
She and Betty walked the property for roughly half an hour,
pausing to look at plants, discuss drainage and water barrels, and admire the
new oxydendrum. Interestingly, Leslee’s
eyes went well beyond the silt barrier to see what was growing in the woodlands
and wetlands beyond.
At the end of the tour Betty asked, as casually as she could
muster, whether the orange fence could come down.
“Oh, sure,” Leslee said.
“You don’t need that now.”
Ready for the dump |
To her credit, Betty waited until the Conservation
Commissioner’s car was out of sight before starting to rip out the fence. But in less than twenty minutes it was in a
pile in our driveway, ready to go to the transfer station. The workmen completing our driveway offered
to take it away for us.
There is still one step remaining before the OC is
lifted. The engineering firm that
surveyed the land last year and drew up the construction plan must now do a
final ‘as-built’ plan showing that we adhered to the letter of the Conservation
Commission’s orders. It will be a joy to
write that final check for the report.
Almost as much of a pleasure as ripping out that fence.
Although there were many hoops to jump through, it must be reassuring to know others will have to live up to those high standards. I'm with Betty on orange, which is why there are no orange roses in my garden.
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