By curious coincidence, I learned a lot about craftsmanship from two people who built fences.
One was a country fencer - a quiet man who did a physically brutal job and took great pride in getting it right. You could look along the posts running up a hill and they were dead straight - no mean feat, considering they were set in holes drilled with a tractor-mounted auger and refilled by hand with shovel and fencing bar (like a crowbar with a blunt end for compacting soil). He didn't take shortcuts and he did little things to make the end result a little better. I hammered in hundreds of fencing staples on the posts he'd set.
The other was a carpenter - rarely stopped talking unless using noisy power tools, worked fast but without haste. He measured twice, cut once; and checked everything was true before nailing them fast. I worked with him to build a picket fence. He cut and fit all the bars and palings, then pulled them apart again so we could paint over the cut ends - a detail that would never be seen but hugely extended the life of the fence.
Both men would do the job right when nobody was watching, they'd take care of details even if only they could see them. But it didn't make them slow, they didn't brag, they just did a bloody good job and got on with it.