New Ground
November 2020
Digging daffodil and garlic bulbs into damp earth,
The mountain sun sinks along with the temperature.
This was the last warm day of Autumn;
Snow gone except on north-facing peaks.
This ground is alkaline, only 5% organic matter,
But it’s a gentle southwest slope with enough water.
We’re some of the lucky ones,
We can do a lot with what we’ve got.
A two-week Covid outbreak at the John Deere dealership
Held our tractor hostage.
Our neighbor had to plow us out.
But Reed trailered the tractor home,
We broke ground on the garden we’ll be planting in the spring.
Bickering about how much to disrupt the ground with the tiller,
Our contrasting methods come together.
It’ll be a better garden than either could do alone.
We canned apple sauce from the old trees.
To share with new neighbors.
We’re some of the lucky ones,
But it’s challenging ground.
Reed gets nasty looks
In the hardware store just for wearing his mask.
Liberals, radicals, libertarians, independents, fundamentalists, cults, private militia,
We have to work together and we do okay.
Look west and you see weather coming.
“It’s hotter and colder than we’ve ever seen,”
Say friends who’ve farmed here for forty years.
“Everything stopped when the wildfires came;
Hanging Lake almost burned.”
Then a QAnon supporter was elected by three percent,
Even though we had phone banked till we couldn’t see straight.
A phone banker has to be cool with people hanging up.
Maybe they think you’re a robocall instead of a volunteer from their own community.
“I would have voted for Joe.” one guy said on the phone bank
“But I couldn’t stand those mouthy women especially Nancy Pelosi.”
“Too many phone calls,” said another.
“Ma’am,” I explained, “Democracy’s on trial in the middle of a pandemic.”
“I let my husband decide my vote,” she said.
“Get f*cked!” growled another.
But many people thanked me for my service
As if I was a first responder who might be saving their lives.
People like Joe don’t win against an incumbent;
They don’t triumph over combatants who ignore the law and disrupt the mail,
But Joe and Kamala did win.
Like me and you,
They’ve got blind spots you could drive a truck through
They aren’t going to save us, not by themselves.
Are you one of the lucky ones,
Standing on uncommon, precious ground
That goes deeper than our differences?
It falls to us to do justice to rain, roots, and children
And the days, nights, highways, and pastures we’ve been given.
