We love gates.

Not fences. Not walls. Gates, the part that opens. This is a small, sincere page for people who slow down to admire a good hinge.

Why gates

A wall says no. A door says come in, maybe. A gate says both, depending on the day.

It keeps the sheep in and lets the walker through. It creaks, it latches, it leans a little after forty winters. Every gate is a small agreement between the people on either side of it.

We think that deserves a page.

A few gates worth stopping for

  • Five-bar gate

    The countryside classic. Five rails, one diagonal brace, and a latch that needs a proper shove. Best leaned on at sunset.

  • Kissing gate

    A little gate that swings inside a U-shaped enclosure. People pass, livestock don't. It is named for the way it touches, or kisses, both sides.

  • Lychgate

    A roofed gateway at the entrance to an old churchyard. It has been keeping the rain off visitors for a few hundred years and shows no sign of stopping.

  • Torii

    Marks the threshold of a Shinto shrine in Japan. It has no doors at all, which makes it the most trusting gate on this list.

  • Garden gate

    Wrought iron, a curl of scrollwork, a latch that clicks. Usually painted black or green, and always slightly too narrow for the wheelbarrow.

  • Moon gate

    A perfect circle cut into a garden wall, found in classical Chinese gardens. Stepping through one is said to bring good fortune.

Please close the gate

  • Leave it as you found it: open if it was open, closed if it was closed.
  • Lift, don't drag. The hinges will thank you.
  • Never climb it. Use the latch, or look for the stile.
  • Say hello on your way through. It has seen a lot.

Most arguments about gates are really arguments about the latch. We have opinions, but we keep them to ourselves.