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Thursday, January 5, 2012

the middle of heaven

 
You know, sometimes I swear I live smack dab in the middle of heaven.  Just a little stretch off the main road and the sky opens up with green and brown fields stretching out as far as the eye can see.

 
It’s hard to believe that this valley was once a thick, lush forest. Tree stumps so immense that they would often hold “stump dances” on top and later turn them into cabins for the settlers. Using only axes, hand saws and horses, this wide valley was cut clean.

 
It also flooded heavily every year. With shovels and horse drawn wagons, the settlers built dikes surrounding the entire valley so they could set up homesteads and begin farming.



 
 I have spent so many hours at our local museum, just staring into the faces of all of those incredibly brave souls that somehow tamed this once wild place.  




the kids collecting garbage alone the road.

Jasper was determined to get "every last can" and ended up smelling like a bar by the time we returned home

 
While the loss of such abundance is hard to be at peace with, I am so very grateful that they left me a spot of clear, fertile ground to grow my life on.  
Without them, none of this would be.

 

7 comments:

  1. Dear Erin,
    Nice to meet you! I recently discoverd you by reading the article that Victoria Bliss published! I am an aspiring cut flower farmer and a farmgirl at heart. I write for MaryJanesFarm as her Beach Farmgirl blogger and I also author my own homemaking/homesteading blog. I give you a mention in my lastest post for MarJanesfarm! Come by and say hello. I'm also your newest follower here... Looking forward to learning more!
    Deb
    http://bfgblog.maryjanesfarm.org/default.asp?Display=27

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  2. love those old cabbage plants. looks like our fields right now

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  3. u live in such a magical place....makes me want to step into that last photo & help your son juggle all those cans!! xxx

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  4. Lovely insightful post! Enjoy your piece of heaven!

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  5. Thank you for articulating this sentiment, Erin. On a somewhat less personal level I have been experiencing similar feelings as I reread the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. This country as we know it was certainly built on a foundation of destruction, and yet it is hard not to feel thankful for the beautiful agrarian landscapes we've inherited. It seems the best any of us can do to resolve the inherent tension is take as good of care of the land and its critters as possible, and build a life celebrating their gifts. I am thankful for the good example you offer us.

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