(HOST) Lately, commentator Bill Schubart has been noticing a proliferation of “posted property” signs around Vermont, leaving him to wonder about how notions of land ownership have changed since his childhood.
(SCHUBART) When I was young in Morrisville fifty years ago, people did not post their land. “No Trespassing” signs were a rarity and were usually found on the properties of newcomers who had moved in from down south – or, in a few cases, not very cunning locals hiding a moonshine still or, later on in the Sixties, a marijuana crop. A “No Trespassing” sign in those days was an invitation to investigate. Farmers didn’t need to post because, on the whole, hikers, hunters, anglers and amblers respected fence lines and knew not to tromp through unmown fields; besides, posting land was seen by neighbors as an inherently hostile and reproving act.
The advice of Robert Frost’s neighbor, as Frost encounters him in his poem “Mending Fence,” is “Good fences make good neighbors.” This dictum sufficed for most Vermonters.
We’ve developed a sad propensity in American life for believing that behind every adverse occurrence in life, someone is at fault and must be held legally and financially accountable. The temptation to build wealth the easy way, to sue for it, may be a factor.
Vermont law protects property owners to a degree if they have an “attractive hazard” such as a naturally occurring swimming hole. A well informed local attorney says there are very few such actions brought, and, unless a landholder is clearly and personally culpable, adverse settlements are a rarity.
So it’s hard to know what’s behind all these yellow signs littering the landscape of Vermont and threatening our sense of community. Just as so many suburban developments have become gated communities, are we in Vermont to become a posted community?
The rise of invasive off-road vehicles such as snow mobiles, ATV’s and dirt bikes is often cited, but a landowner can selectively post against vehicles, for example, or against hunters and trappers, without barring everyone else.
The loss of open land for hiking, cross country skiing, fishing and, yes, even hunting, marks a disturbing shift in how we view property, our neighbors and the communities in which we live. We’re more than just “owners” of our lands, we are also stewards of them and members of a community.
In England, there are thousands of miles of footpaths available to amblers and hikers, a tradition that goes back centuries. The paths cross hundreds of miles of private property on which tens of thousands of cattle and sheep graze and crops grow. There are “kissing gates” and stiles built into all the fences for the walkers. Walkers by tradition respect the land, and landowners welcome the walkers. This much loved and venerable tradition was recently reaffirmed by Parliament.
Sadly, we’ve lost this aspect of our past. Imagine the opportunity if we had a plan for sharing our land with skiers and hikers. Some eight thousand people a year walk across England through the Lake District and the Yorkshire Moors.
If we continue to post all of Vermont, where will our children walk, fish, explore and yes hunt?
Bill Schubart lives and writes about living in Vermont from his home in Hinesburg.