This Christmas we decided to drive to Ontario to spend 2.5 weeks with our family, in the hopes of relaxing, catching up and having a relatively consumer free Christmas.
As we set out on our adventure we had to laugh- the kids were crammed into the back seat amongst pillows, blankets, lunch kits stuffed with snacks, day bags, back packs and miscellaneous wires- most of which were attached to a fancy set of 7” monitors that promised a semi-comatose travelling state for the kids. I know, not very natural, but for a 22 hour road trip we figured we'd take the criticism of an in truck dvd player if it meant a kosher car ride.
Our trunk was stuffed with home made goodies, suit cases, dog beds, snow suits, skates, boots and all the random accessories that one “needs” when going on a trip. Actually, come to think of it, we could probably live a pretty satisfying life if all we owned was what was in the trunk of our car, but that is another blog for another time.
The next few weeks were spent visiting, eating, shopping a little, cooking, laughing, crying, skating, sledding, walking, eating, giving thanks, playing board games, eating, swimming, and eating… did I mention eating?
All and all: a fantastic trip. When it was time to head home we were ready. We had our fill of the big (ish) city, felt re-connected with our loved ones, and we were craving the creature comforts of home. And all though we had our truck o’ stuff, it wasn’t the home that we know and love.
So, we headed home. We were feeling pretty good- we were leaving with less than we had come with. We had managed to exit consumerville relatively unscathed; save for a full wheel of mild gouda cheese I had picked up for a neighbor, a few new items from Christmas, and enough maple sugar treats to hide in my sock drawer for the next year.
After returning from our trip to Ottawa we were happy to see that our chickens and cats were all accounted for, our home was in one piece and we didn't have a stitch of shoveling to do.
Everything was good and right in our world. We had some supper and tucked in to bed for the night.
It wasn’t until Stephen returned from walking the dog yesterday morning that we realized how much can happen in 2.5 weeks.
When Stephen takes Pablo for a walk he usually uses our neighbor’s back road. It is a country-esque road that leads back to Catalone Lake. The final destination, and always the highlight of the walk is the beautiful birch grove that over looks the lake. It is one of those nooks in the forest that seems to be housing magic in its boughs. It is a piece of property that always warrants the “if only we had the money to buy this piece of property” discussion… you know the one where you day dream of what you could do, or in this case not do, with a living chunk of majestic woodland.
Long story short- it was gone. 95% of the birch grove was gone. The trees lay on the forest floor now waiting to be hauled away. The machine that tore it all down now sits cold, in the midst of the wreckage watching over the fallen trees like a soldier in a cemetery.
Now, it is easy for me to get misty eyed about the whole thing. It is so sad to see something so beautiful destroyed. A whole landscape changed in the blink of a vacation. But there is something more perplexing to this story. Something that goes deeper than the wood or the magic; in this case it is our neighbor. It is the same dilemma that the world is facing thousands of times over; Money vs. environment.
Our neighbor is broke. He has been trying to sell his land and has essentially run out of money. I won’t get into the reasons why he is short on funds or why his land hasn’t sold- both of which are self inflicted dramas unto themselves. But the bigger issue still stands. Our neighbor is an old fella who sees his property as a means for his end. He owns this land, and if he needs to hack down a square of it so that he can buy the coal to heat his home or the soup to put on his table he will without a second though. He does see value in trees- but the value is different for him. And there is no use talking to him or trying to “set him straight”. He see’s the world differently too. Like a locust in a wheat field.
Today is a sad day for us. No amount of day dreaming will bring back that birch grove. I will be a tired old woman before any tree of substance will stand once again in that magical place. I can only imagine how many families around the world are helplessly watching their landscape change just as we are. Is there a point where people begin to grow numb?
So farewell to the birch grove that housed our picnics, spurred our imaginations and greeted us so warmly during the past two years.
As we set out on our adventure we had to laugh- the kids were crammed into the back seat amongst pillows, blankets, lunch kits stuffed with snacks, day bags, back packs and miscellaneous wires- most of which were attached to a fancy set of 7” monitors that promised a semi-comatose travelling state for the kids. I know, not very natural, but for a 22 hour road trip we figured we'd take the criticism of an in truck dvd player if it meant a kosher car ride.
Our trunk was stuffed with home made goodies, suit cases, dog beds, snow suits, skates, boots and all the random accessories that one “needs” when going on a trip. Actually, come to think of it, we could probably live a pretty satisfying life if all we owned was what was in the trunk of our car, but that is another blog for another time.
The next few weeks were spent visiting, eating, shopping a little, cooking, laughing, crying, skating, sledding, walking, eating, giving thanks, playing board games, eating, swimming, and eating… did I mention eating?
All and all: a fantastic trip. When it was time to head home we were ready. We had our fill of the big (ish) city, felt re-connected with our loved ones, and we were craving the creature comforts of home. And all though we had our truck o’ stuff, it wasn’t the home that we know and love.
So, we headed home. We were feeling pretty good- we were leaving with less than we had come with. We had managed to exit consumerville relatively unscathed; save for a full wheel of mild gouda cheese I had picked up for a neighbor, a few new items from Christmas, and enough maple sugar treats to hide in my sock drawer for the next year.
After returning from our trip to Ottawa we were happy to see that our chickens and cats were all accounted for, our home was in one piece and we didn't have a stitch of shoveling to do.
Everything was good and right in our world. We had some supper and tucked in to bed for the night.
It wasn’t until Stephen returned from walking the dog yesterday morning that we realized how much can happen in 2.5 weeks.
When Stephen takes Pablo for a walk he usually uses our neighbor’s back road. It is a country-esque road that leads back to Catalone Lake. The final destination, and always the highlight of the walk is the beautiful birch grove that over looks the lake. It is one of those nooks in the forest that seems to be housing magic in its boughs. It is a piece of property that always warrants the “if only we had the money to buy this piece of property” discussion… you know the one where you day dream of what you could do, or in this case not do, with a living chunk of majestic woodland.
Long story short- it was gone. 95% of the birch grove was gone. The trees lay on the forest floor now waiting to be hauled away. The machine that tore it all down now sits cold, in the midst of the wreckage watching over the fallen trees like a soldier in a cemetery.
Now, it is easy for me to get misty eyed about the whole thing. It is so sad to see something so beautiful destroyed. A whole landscape changed in the blink of a vacation. But there is something more perplexing to this story. Something that goes deeper than the wood or the magic; in this case it is our neighbor. It is the same dilemma that the world is facing thousands of times over; Money vs. environment.
Our neighbor is broke. He has been trying to sell his land and has essentially run out of money. I won’t get into the reasons why he is short on funds or why his land hasn’t sold- both of which are self inflicted dramas unto themselves. But the bigger issue still stands. Our neighbor is an old fella who sees his property as a means for his end. He owns this land, and if he needs to hack down a square of it so that he can buy the coal to heat his home or the soup to put on his table he will without a second though. He does see value in trees- but the value is different for him. And there is no use talking to him or trying to “set him straight”. He see’s the world differently too. Like a locust in a wheat field.
Today is a sad day for us. No amount of day dreaming will bring back that birch grove. I will be a tired old woman before any tree of substance will stand once again in that magical place. I can only imagine how many families around the world are helplessly watching their landscape change just as we are. Is there a point where people begin to grow numb?
So farewell to the birch grove that housed our picnics, spurred our imaginations and greeted us so warmly during the past two years.
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