| My raised bed against the house with tomatoes |
|
|
"I know I am not here
as a representative white male American human, not are the birds and animals and plants here as representatives of their sex
or species. We all have our ways, forms, and habits. We all are what we are partly because we are here and not in another
place."
Wendell Berry from Life is a Miracle
As we grow older in our ways, I would like
to think that we become wiser. Too often this is far from true for many of us. Humans tend to lose their youthful enthusiasm,
their idealism, and sometimes their convictions as time passes. In a sense, communities do the same. A new neighborhood is
established, a city is designed, and a nation defines itself with positive ideals, optimisim, and carefully considered boundaries.
Over time those qualities tend to fade and people who inherit the land do not always have the same appreciation for their
priceless heritage. Even so, throughout most of human history as generations of families have lived in the same communities
and tilled the same land, there was a degree of appreciation that helped preserve land and the integrity of communities. However
colonialization and imperialism have shown just how destructive humans can be to the land of other people. It wasn't that
people did not see the value in other lands. In fact, they did; but they did not love it. People tend to exploit what they
value; they only defend what they love.
America was founded on principles that were not
condusive to ecological sensitivity; yet, we have been established long enough that generations of people have lived
and died here. However, there is a cultural nuance here that works against having a deep respect for our natural
environment. No society in the history of civilization has been as transient as ours today. Military families move frequently.
Young people go away to college. Then they establish new lives in pursuit of finacial security and stability. They go to the
urban areas in search of wealth and succuss. Even smaller communities are populated by those whose parents or grandparents
lived elsewhere. People move in search of bigger homes, trender neighborhoods, and better lives. This all contributes
to a loss of connection to the land. The connection can be re-established in time, but too often it results in the exploitation
for personal or corporate gain.
When I was ten years old, I heard some tragic news--the
patch of woods that I had spent all my summers playing in were about to be cut down to make way for a small subdivision. I
had climbed its trees, played in its stream, and studied its wildlife. Those woods were more than my childhood
playground. They had become a part of me. My personality was shaped by its terrain. To this day, certain woodland scents
and sights will transport my soul to my childhood days of serenity and wonder. Yet, I cannot go back and sit beneath the great
oak tree or swing on the tangled vines. I cannot catch the wood frogs anymore, for they are no longer there.
Since my childhood, I have lived in nine different homes in three different states, but it has always been my goal to get
back to West Virginia. Now that I'm back, I hope to move just once more. I want a modest house nestled in woods
where my children can play. I want to own those woods so that I can protect them from the same plight of my childhood. I want
a small patch of grass that I can till and eat from its gardens. I will take from it; I will give back to it.
Until then, I will enjoy my dwelling place in a subdivision. I have raised beds and a chicken coop. I am teaching my children
how to care for our land. I will leave my 1/3 of an acre a better place than I found it when we move, hopefully, for the last
time.
| Raised bed in the shape of an "H" |
|
|
The links below are just a few musings about my view of nature. What I experience in nature, cannot be adequately put
into words; however, there are times that I must attempt to put in words what my heart feels. Communicating our experiences
to others is the fulfillment and epitome of any experience.
