For the Land's Sake! Thanks!

 

         
"...And little can we call our own
Save death and that small pattern 
Of the barren earth that serves as
Paste and cover to our bones."
                         Shakespeare
                         Richard II

The wildfire news out of California staggers the mind. Thousands of homes incinerated over night. An entire town, gone. Family homes, gone. Possessions, gone. Memories, gone. Shelter, gone.  People missing. Lives turned upside down. Lives lost. Photos of the scorched home sites and landscape bring to mind WWII photos of towns and cities in ruins. Displaced people standing amid rubble. It's hard to wrap one's mind around such personal devastation. What do the victims do now? Where do they go? How do they begin to dust off the ash and begin again? What would I do? What would you do?

There seems to be one common thought among victims of natural disasters whether they be hurricanes, floods, tornadoes...wildfires: "At least we have our lives. At least our families are safe." That's the blessing of Providence, surely, but really, what more can you say except to give thanks for being spared?

We bought our one slim acre of pastureland in 1974, built our home here in 1975. Over the years we have landscaped and groomed our piece of the Valley to suit our tastes and needs, keeping in mind that for one brief moment in the continuum of time this land, this piece of earth is our home. Although the property description comes up a bit shy of an acre, the family has for years called our place "Green Acres." Over the years our little expanse of rich bottom land has produced a bounty of walnuts, fruits and vegetables, countless bouquets of lilacs, dahlias and sweet peas. It has served as home base for my honeybee colonies which over the years have gathered hundreds of pounds of Valley wildflower honey. And a nature preserve, also, home to resident and migrating birds. There is always something of interest here on Green Acres, always something to see, whether a tiny miner bee or a great blue heron. This place has served as playground for our daughter, her pets, her friends, a field of memories, both hers and ours. We are comfortable in this place.

I've always been puzzled by those whose goal seems to be acquiring more land, more acreage, their philosophy that buying up land is a good thing: "Because they're not making any more of it." I'm reminded of the Tolstoy short story "How Much Land Does a Man Need," a tale about a land greedy man whose greed ends up killing him, whose final resting place is six feet of earth, all the land he really needed in the end. With Green Acres we have land enough and are thankful for it.

So a heartfelt "Thank-You," Green Acres, for what you've given our family. I am thankful for a sound roof over my head, thankful for our home, thankful for the chance to turn your rich soil into fruit, vegetables and honey, thankful to live in a Valley free from wildfires, hurricanes and tornadoes.

Still, on this Thanksgiving holiday I think of the hundreds of families who are sifting through the remains of their former lives or searching for lost family members among temporary shelters, and especially of those making funeral arrangements for their loved ones, victims of the California burning. For the displaced I imagine this holiday, the joy it brings, is the farthest thing from their minds, a sobering thought, one that should give those of us more fortunate some pause as we celebrate the holidays with homes and possessions intact, family members alive and well.




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