Monday, January 25, 2010

Praising the Process

All the way home in the deluge, I could see streams and lakes in the forest that I had never noticed before. In the dead of winter, the lines of sight aren’t obscured by the dense foliage of spring and summer, and without the glare from the sun, a whole new world is opened up to me. It’s a constant reminder that paradise is ever evolving right before our eyes. I was happy to be going home to the holler where there’s a natural rhythm of nature instead of the hustle and bustle of gotta go.

Living in this secluded hamlet in the forest, I’ve realized that we have a new frontier here. Because we’re so isolated from the hubs of commerce and communication, we draw together as neighbors. We have to depend on each other because we may be cut off from the outside world by ice or downed trees without prior notice. “Be prepared” is the Boy Scout motto; it’s a good guide for living in rural America.

Another idea I’m fond of is the Girl Scout goal to leave every place better than you found it. The wonderful thing about living in the lap of nature is how often simply doing no harm allows Mother Earth to continue making herself better than we found her. It takes a lot of pressure off of me in terms of landscape maintenance.
The people who have made this their home for many generations have a lot to teach us about neighborliness and community cooperation. They also have a lot of survival skills to impart to us, if we take the time to watch and listen.

What if our city water systems ran dry or someone poisoned our large water supplies. Mother Nature’s bosom gushes with fresh spring water, waiting to be dipped and carried as Jack does for his drinking water. Water for washing ourselves literally falls from the skies; Jack collects this in rain barrels.

My Cajun grandparents had a cistern for collecting rain water. This provided all their water for drinking, bathing, cooking -- and when they got an indoor potty – flushing. Of course, Grandma had very strict rules about when you could flush, as the cistern was dependent on rainfall to fill it. Maybe we’d have less resistant bacteria in our systems if we consumed more water straight from the hand of God.

Trees have to be felled, cut, and split to feed the fires in Jack’s stoves. I appreciate a heated home more when I see the effort it takes for Jack and his brother Charles put into keeping his home warm. I appreciate my food more knowing that Richard, Mamie, Junior, and I worked together to prepare the soil, plant the seeds, harvest the crops, and cook, can, and freeze the bounty of the earth’s sun, soil, and rain.

I appreciate Charlie and Deborah’s and Mary and Don’s beautiful homes more knowing that Charlie and Don cut down the trees and mill the boards before they build. I love that Don is cutting the stones found on he and Mary’s mountaintop to create his fireplace façade. Maybe if we can learn to appreciate the process, we can keep part of the earth safe for future generations.

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