Another Google Street View shot of the border fence, 2 km away from the last one.
Despite the amount of talk in the news about increased border security in the U.S., I’d never in all these years literally interpreted the border fence to simply be a fence (shows what an abstract thinker I am most of the time). I don’t remember how I finally clued in a few days ago, or what prompted me to inspect it through Google Street View. What I saw wasn’t too different from the kinds of fences one sees everyday; just longer, a bit taller, and coloured with graffiti and weather damage. A relatively ordinary entity, yet so imposing because of the amount of meaning it’s collected. The past few days I’ve found myself returning to random desolate points along the fence via Street View, simultaneously feeling captivated and saddened by the whole situation. I can’t imagine living in a home that faces the longest and most prohibitory fence in the continent and being implicitly reminded every day to keep out.
But it’s impossible for anything to be edgeless, I suppose.
