I work in an office with a bunch of folks who rarely go outside or do anything for themselves. I notice that they all seem to talk about the environment and how mankind is destroying it. I recently started telling them they must go outside for a total of just 6 hours a week in order to be able talk about the environment.
They think I am a nut because I burn wood, plant new trees for future wood, take my family hiking, fishing and camping, get 30% of my vegetables and fruit from my little 2 acres here on the edge of the megalopolis and I compost everything. Who is nuts?
Sorry a little venting.
You aren't nuts. Neither of us are.
Everyone that grew up watching Disney and Bambi are apparently qualified environmental experts. They're not just out of touch with nature and the earth, they never made contact in the first place. I do feel sorry for them, but often that is overcome with anger when they attempt to legislate the lives of people who have an understanding of nature, animals and growing things. After 40 years of rural life I realize how all of these things are interconnected. Urban dwellers, for the most part, do not. I say for the most part because there are many city dwellers that would love to live in a rural or country setting.
We have chickens. Raise vegetables. I kill several deer on our place in the fall. I fish in our pond that I built and on the stream that flows 100 feet below our home. I cut and heat with wood 100%. I make as many of my own tools as I can. I work with wood and steel. I love trees and everything about them. One of my really fun hobbies is identifying trees. We are close to the earth and watch the ebb and flow of its seasons.
The butterflies and hawks migrate down our little river valley in the fall. At dusk small flights of "woodies" and mallards twist their way over the water going to a safe night roost somewhere up river.
The does drop their spotted fawns in the spring and I often get to see them as I go out to work as they feed along our 1/4 mile long drive. Being green is the recent craze, but small farmers, homesteaders and veteran country dwellers laugh and have been going green for years. We don't flush our toilet every time someone has to urinate. What a great waste of water. Today as when we were on well water (I am a well fighter with 20+ years OTJ) we run water the very minimum and keep all lights turned off that are not needed.
Our chickens are our garbage disposal, turning scraps into fine brown eggs. The four deer I took last fall will keep us in venison until next November. Being green has nothing to do with joining the Sierra club or donating money to PETA.
When we were forced to live on a trailer park many many years ago, my heart longed for a place of our own. That last winter before it came to pass I wrote this:
A Mountain Home
By Frank Lee Jennings
©2009 All Copyrights remain with the author
Someday I’ll have a mountain home
With forests all around
And through the hollows I will roam
With gun and baying hounds
To hunt the mountain game, all wild
Turkey, deer and Squirrels
Land not yet by man defiled
Best land in the world
The beauty of an autumn’s day
Or winter’s stark delight
Chipmunks on the ridge at play
A flock of Crows in flight
A long day’s hunt, a pleasant one
The tires hounds all close by
The evening chill, a winter’s sun
Sets in a cloud streaked sky
Then homeward trail at twilight time
Lest darkness come too soon
And we must wend through Oak and Pine
By light of winter moon
Crispy leaves crunch neath’ my tread
This frosty winter night
The hounds, all anxious to be fed
And fight their daily fight
Then through the branches shafts of light
All softened by the fog
A guiding beacon in the night
For huntsman and his dogs
The kenneled dogs howl for their bone
And feeding them a trial
Each thinks the grub is his alone
And fights from pile to pile
Once more the hunt is over
And ended where began
A home out on the mountain
In a whispering White Oak stand.
Seeing a dream come true is a wonderful thing. I love it even more than I thought I would and so does my life mate of 43 years. Men who love the simple ways and things are more blessed than millionaires. THe simple life is the best.
Frank