Reflections on Gravel

Rural folks are welcoming folks. When walking down a long gravel road in the country, trucks slow, drivers wave, people greet me. They do not know me. Do not know who I am or why I am there. The experience is calm. The kindness authentic.

This gravel road leads up a small hill. Alfalfa, wheat on either side. A guard dog barks at my passing, somewhere behind a herd of cows. They eye me warily, but do not cease to chew. It is warm, energizing, calm. Like a dream that even your conscious self realizes is pleasant, and you smile.

Yet that same calm and the kindness, too, are a veneer masking the violence of this place.

The breeze whisking in from the mountains brings a whiff of glyphostphate. It's sharp, unmistakable. It is, in an instant, everywhere. The buttoned up homes seem not to mind. Shut windows, toys inside, garage doors shut. All shield their inhabitants from a world eagerly bidding them outside. Birds, at rest on the wires and fences, dive at a meal. They return without sustenance, mistaken by the glint of a fading beer can. Discarded by a driver, for there is no other explanation here. A driver anxious of what might lie ahead, or a trauma that remains behind. Serenity here in the degradation of the mind and world on this little gravel road.

There is violence everywhere. An assault on the land. A battle against encroachment. A fortress against the spray. A war on the mind and emotions, waged behind the wheel and twang on truck stereo. Even in the kindness of a wave, a vehicle that slows to reduce the dirt and rocks it kicks up, there are signs of such anger, and such unwelcoming that it is obvious who may walk among the fields unmolested, taking in a country day.

Thinking now, of one of my students, from a coastal tribe in the Pacific Northwest, who sought advice on how to challenge the environmental exploitation around them. I'm struck by the care for which he, and his family, friends, and fellow students, take for their world, their environment, and themselves. The most I can do is teach them about these instances. My travels, experiences. Show them how, when you peel back the veneer, you can experience the rot beneath. Without doing that, you can not fix systems. You can not enjoy the gravel roads, the farm fields, the warm sun on your face, and open your doors to accept natures invitation to play.