People
cut through the yard at Sage Garden. I've been told by neighbors that I
need to be stern with trespassers, and I agree that's a valid way to
be. I admit with a little regret that I once scolded
someone for walking right by my open
door on his way to a friend's house. If I forget for a moment that
fist-shaking is endorsed and expected, and consider whether I really
want to act that way, it's obvious that I don't. One day, people won't
cut through here anymore - it's inevitable.
Right now, the front yard is bare gravel, with a sidewalk exactly where
pedestrians would want it, but as the area develops into a domestic
space to be enjoyed, and looks more like a home than a shortcut, will
pedestrians start walking around it? Is that what
I want? To cultivate a place for enjoyment and then prevent people from
enjoying it? Fast-forward even more, is extinction in the cards for
our species? Seems like the consensus opinion among religious and
secular worldviews that a day will come when we're
no longer on this planet. And when we're gone, if some piece of me
remembers this day and can weigh in on the question of how to treat
trespassers, wouldn't I rather invite everyone in than try to keep them
out? Or if our memory is held only by this dirt
and the things that live in it, what will their opinions be? Will they
prefer the trespassers who unwittingly nourished the soil by spitting on
the ground, or the well-intentioned property managers who used
long-lasting poisons to quell the more, shall we say, spontaneous
elements of life?
All elements of life are
spontaneous. Life IS spontaneous. Or maybe more accurately and more to
the point, the ingrained patterns of life and growth aren't swayed by
your plans or mine. And if I truly want this place to be alive and
to induce more
life in the people plants and animals who encounter it, I'll not only
accept unexpected foot traffic - I'll learn to thrive on it.
