“I would build a great wall, and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me, and I’ll build them very inexpensively, I will build a great, great wall on our southern border. And I will have Mexico pay for that wall.” Donald Trump, announcing his candidacy on June 16th, 2015.

“I will build the greatest wall you’ve ever seen. . . . I want it to be so beautiful because maybe someday they’ll call it The Trump Wall.” Donald Trump, Derry, New Hampshire on August 19th, 2015.

“On day one [of a Trump presidency], we will begin working on an impenetrable, physical, tall, powerful, beautiful, southern border wall.” Donald Trump, Arizona on August 31, 2016.

Okay, boys and girls, gather round. Time for a small story about storks and fences and Donald Trump. Yes, you can lie down on the floor. And, yes, you can have your juice. But, no, you can’t do Pokemon. Now listen.

Once upon a time, storks covered the land, living wherever the thermal winds would blow. With their single mate, they would sit high above people, and watch over the world in their giant nests. But then a dark time descended upon the land. Violence erupted along simmering seams of discontent. The leaders thought that guns and walls and fences were the answer. And so they armed the population and built their fences and walls.

As for the stork . . . .

The stork nest stands empty. It sits inside a large patch of land that is enclosed by a ten-foot fence. A fence that encircles the woods, and the water, and protects everyone inside from the outside. A secure border. The Trump fence in action.

But is the Trump fence really secure? The heron on the nearest low branch is unimpressed with this fence. Her head is held high, neck stiff, chest forward, all business. The business of fishing that is. She flies low and flat off the branch, skimming the top of the fence and landing in the shallow water on the other side. A border has no meaning to someone who is hungry. The heron fishes where there are fish. So she stands patiently in the water, calm, quiet, focused, even her cellphone is turned off. Survival breeds innovation. A fence? A mere challenge. And the minnow on the wrong side of the fence? Sushi for the heron.

But many inhabitants love the Trump fence. Take ducks. They are usually busy with their heads down in the water, their bottoms up, and their orange legs dangling. The clowns of the bird world.

They’re interested in the fence because they love a show. A fence is always good as a dramatic device for digging a tunnel underneath, or flying over with a kite made from sheets, or as something to separate two star-crossed lovers singing about their impossible love while tap-dancing and clicking castanets. By focusing on a fence, there is no need to talk about the dried-up wetlands, disappearing food, and changing weather. It was a smart decision to distract the ducks with a fence.

But, remember, these are just ducks. As Donald Trump said, “It is our right to choose immigrants that we think are the likeliest to thrive and flourish and love us.” Ducks love Donald Trump. That certainly qualifies them as GOOD immigrants. Of course, their heads are frequently under water, which doesn’t hurt either.

Further on down the fence, strange-looking deer are resting in the sun. Reindeer? Resting up before the busy holiday season. “On Dasher, On Dancer, On Prancer and Vixen” gets a little exhausting. But look at this? A soccer ball has come from one side of the fence and landed on the other. A clear provocation. A breach of the border. An international incident of the gravest matter.

Will there be retaliation? Will armies amass at the border? Should we launch a preemptive strike from our nuclear arsenals?

Fortunately, Rudolph is nonplussed. It’s the off-season. His red nose is in storage. The ball is probably an invitation from those teenage girls across the way looking for a pick-up game with four-footed competition. Whew, international crisis prevented by a tired reindeer unwilling to leave the warmth of the afternoon sun.

But look, the geese are certainly aroused. The geese can be found in a large group inside the fence. The big gander, with that dramatic sweep of hair, is undecided how ferocious he wants to be. Usually he honks and honks, then he stretches his neck and fluffs his wings. A lot of action. Who knows what he’s promising his entourage. A return to the old days, when only the white-colored geese blanketed the sky? Or maybe he’s telling them that Canadian Geese will be kept out of the fenced-in area until everyone is assured they are not practicing Canadians? Or maybe he wants more leg-banding of female geese, but only those female geese who could easily have been models for high-fashion geese magazines? I don’t know what was said. My command of Goose is rusty.

Regardless, the stork platform remains empty. No matter how high the fence, no storks. No matter how tough the rhetoric, no storks. No matter if you’re armed with an AK-47 for your daughter’s dance recital, no storks. It doesn’t even matter that the building of the fence created union jobs. NO STORKS.

Children, we want storks. Trust me. Since the beginning of time, storks have been a sign of prosperity. The old tales speak of the Dutch fairies going to Egypt to talk the storks into coming and eating the frogs that had taken over Holland. And the storks came. If a farmer can get storks to nest on his land, the crops are better. And if the stork will only nest on the farmer’s house, the farmer’s family will prosper. Children will come. A new sofa will be purchased. Mom and dad will get a babysitter and go on a date for the first time in a long time.

But not a stork to be found inside the fence. They left. They don’t like fences. They don’t live in isolation from the world. These are the birds that fly across whole continents with the beat of a wing.

So where are the storks?

Look up. High in the air. There’s one nesting on that chimney. Watching over the house. Making sure everything is all right. Free to the wind. No walls. No fences. No nothing.

Contrary to popular opinion, the storks believe that Trump fences do not bring luck and prosperity. Nope. They will be the first to tell you that for luck and prosperity you need a stork. You want to prosper? You’d better open your door. You want a stork? Tear down your wall.

And that’s all the storks will tell you, because storks are notoriously close-lipped. Except when looking for a romantic fling. Then their jaws click and clack with such a clatter that their mates give in just to stop the noise.

And that’s the story of fences and storks and Donald Trump.

Joe