Aware of the rain
predicted to hit today,
the steady knock, knock
on the roof top and skylights
supports the end of the fire season.
Aware of the wooden fences
that solidly block out
the views of a beautiful valley,
enveloping the crop
and protecting it from intruders.
The precious green plants
that cause so much strife
in our communities
have invited elements of
entrepreneurship and crime.
I mourn what is lost.
I have second thoughts
about our decision to move here.
Twelve years ago,
planning to never move again.
But now considering it.
A new awareness replaces
the feeling of belonging with
resentment for
the growers and the tribe
of migrant seasonal workers.
I am aware that I don’t like
the development of this ‘new economy’
and the arrogance of entitlement
that is showing up everywhere
around me.
I am aware of the negative influx
of the greed
that is replacing a caring, compassionate,
and, what once was considered
an alternative lifestyle.
It does not help that most people
in this community have similar feelings.
We elected it to be legal,
this raping of our soil with marijuana plants
and the subsequent pollution of the ground water.
If only the coming storms and
the wind could blow away the fences
and wash clean this lush valley of feelings
that separate us
from each other.
Hiking Poet 