Building a wall

I grew up in with our house and land surrounded by a stone wall.

I'm fascinated with the Irish stone walls with their ragged tops, sometimes covered by moss. 

They are all along the roadways. Some surround houses while others close in fields with sheep, horses or donkeys.

Today, on the way to the beach to walk Rooby, we passed a pile of the top row of rocks, along a wall with a flat surface.

"We must stop on the way back," I said to Rick and he remembered and pulled over as we were heading home in a safe place to stop.

I needed to walk a bit and I came upon a man putting the finishing touches on a section.

"Would you mind terribly if I took your photo?" I asked.

He blushed. "Why?"

"Because I love these walls and I want a memory."

When he didn't answer I said, "I promise you won't see yourself in any magazine or newspaper."

Still no answer.

"What if I take your back?"

He smiled. "That would be all right," he said.

I showed him the photo. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said with another smile.