You should probably get a life, or maybe just laid.
This old stump speaks to me. The fence, foreign to the stump, holds it up and precludes it from being a part of the other side. Yet, the stump reaches through the fence, the wood stained by rust.
The grass is greener on the other side.
There are no further concerns. It may rain or not. The soil may be poor or rich. The sun, cold or warm. Breeze or wind, little changes.
The bugs and worms live and thrive. That will happen with or without the fence, though the location might change.
Birds still rest as they need, and some eat the bugs and worms that ate the stump.
There's a mouse in there somewhere, eeking out it's existence, dodging the night owl living in the tree you can't see, one day sure to zig when it should have zagged, regurgitated in pieces for the owlets sitting in a nest formed of twigs that once threaded the fence.
-- Posted from a mobile device