Author: Martian Joe

Everyone knows about sourcing locally, but I am upon my most local one yet. Just three years ago a lot of our local majestic pines succumbed to the Spring Fire. Many homes were lost, many hearts were broken, many dreams shattered.

The Earth has amazing recovery powers as does the human spirit. Some thought of pulling up and leaving (and some did), some decided to sit and wait to see what nature might do, but others became proactive. Deciding to stay, invest, rebuild, make new dreams.

Some of these trees have been not only cut down to clear the land, but wonderfully repurposed. Two by fours, two by sixes, and one by sixes. Colors as deep and rich as beetle kill, and I never even left the ranch to pick them up. Some friends are making their lot new again, a new drive, a new house spot on their own mountain top, and milling products during the process.

I have some woodworking projects lined up. More and more as my mind explores, but I will take extra care to build some special things out of this.

Life is slower here, harder, but slower. Time moves on a different scale, and in some ways these eleven months feel like four years. Not in the dragging, going slowly sense, but in the way this place can settle into you, shift you, and alter your connection to your surroundings.

I normally rise before day light and experience the waking up of the world around me. An occasional plane the only sound of civilization, I light the house in these early hours with propane mantle lights, ensure the fridge isn’t humming, and the world inside is still to fully embrace the outside.

This morning I went out to tend my hummingbird charm (did you know a group of hummingbirds is called a charm?). Out here I am starting to think swarm might be a more apropos definition. One poor little girl was wedged between two seat boards on my deck chair, her left wing out behind her, breathing rapidly. Unsure what to do, I gently grabbed her by the tail feathers and as lightly as I could I pulled her out. She immediately flew to the window sill and sat for a bit, so I sat next to her and talked for a minute. She then shook herself off, and bolted back to the trees in front of the house. This is what a morning should feel like.

It is a different pace out here, no traffic, no signs of civilization, just a man and a bird on a sunny morning. I like the pace of this life. I need the pace of this life. There are more changes coming, but they all feel good. Dinner with friends last night, getting to know new people in the park, and more visiting to occur today. I have chores to do yes, but also a new life to embrace.

I am sitting out here on my little mountain top (so many houses out here have their own ) reflecting upon the change a single year can bring. Location. Environment. Connection to the Earth. Connection to other humans. My eleventh month here, hard to believe, but true. I am changing, and this place is changing me, in a myriad of ways.

Thank you to the folks that texted when I wrote of my recent experience with darkness. Thank you to those that emailed kind words, genuine and heart felt. Thank you to those that called to chat about things, our park, and how you too feel we can do better here than ‘out there’. It touched me, makes me feel at home, and makes me wish to help my community in return.

Life will go on and will be just what it will be. We embrace the good, share the joy, and take time to appreciate this place we get to call home. We live with the rest, and practice being the best versions of ourselves that we can.

The magical spell of this place is evidently lifting itself. There is more and more being revealed here; human beings are just that, after all, and thus we are all dark, selfish, flawed, and can seemingly turn upon our neighbors at the slightest of slights. Or when the fixated notion of ‘right’ versus what truly doesn’t matter in the scope of anyone’s life becomes paramount, is it worth the continual energy devoted to righting such a ‘wrong’?

We should be better here. I will strive to be. I have to be. I have been ‘out there’, and it is not nice. There are genuine, giving, kind and nice people here too. I will focus upon them. If you choose to see me as dark, misaligned, or of impure intent, so be it. I will be me. I will stand strong. I will apologize when wrong, and defend myself fully, when wronged.

I am an intelligent man, but not one well versed in human nature. I have this repeated tendency to see the good in all I meet and then repeatedly get blindsided by the onset of darkness when it rears its ugly head. The aforementioned darkness and flawed creatures we all are, myself included, it is deep and dark, but out here my friends? Cannot we strive to treat each other a bit nicer? I hope we can be better to each other amidst all this beauty and peace. Even in the face of such adversity, I will do my best to treat you better than you are treating me. I have to. (Have you been out there?)

Thank you to my friend who pointed this out. There are less and less who know of John Lee Hooker these days, let alone any of his collaborations with Carlos Santana (if you know who he is, these days). Apropos to this topic, this is indeed the proper follow up from the last post. The same artists with a nice shift in sentiment to round out this area of life.

(If new to you, but this ends up on your special evening play list, just give thanks once in a while. There are rhythms to live by for such aspects of life.)