land formations
We arrived in LAX yesterday, after nearly two weeks in the southern states - Tennessee and Georgia. The three and a half hour flight from Hartsfield airport to Phoenix, and then to LA moved us from the lush greens of the the Georgian broadleaf forests to spotted green and vivid tans of the southwest deserts.
I love the dense green forests of Georgia. Walking the paths of the reserve around the Emery president's residence stirs my historical imagination, to marvel at the desparate attempts by Confederate soldiers to defend their turf against Sherman's haughty soldiers. Or what was it like as the European settlers first encountered the Cherokees? The forests are full of mysteries.
We joined a great mob of Americans and friends at Stone Mountain, Georgia for the Fourth of July and although they didn't sing it, I've got Woodie Guthries old folk song spinning in my head, "This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Islands, to the Redwood forests to the gulf stream waters, this land was made for you and me."
I also love the great vistas of the west, the sunset crowning San Jacinto over Palm Springs, the snow-capped barren heaps of Mt Baldy and San Gorgonio, the jagged majesty of the Kaweahs towering over the the San Joaquin Valley.
But each part of the land has its own culture, history and mysteries that bid us come back to the forests, the deserts and marshes. There is magic in the land, and would that we could be re-enchanted. So much has been destroyed in the press of progress and quick wealth. Whole peoples have been eliminated, species crossed of the lists, ways of life reduced to fairy tales.
The ancient Hebrews read their calamities in light of the divine covenant. When they lived in obedience and harmony with each other and their neighbors, God blessed them with the fruit of the land. When they ignored those blessings, deprived the poor, widows, orphans and strangers of their rights, and spilled blood needlessly, the land was taken away.
It may not be long.
--georgos
I love the dense green forests of Georgia. Walking the paths of the reserve around the Emery president's residence stirs my historical imagination, to marvel at the desparate attempts by Confederate soldiers to defend their turf against Sherman's haughty soldiers. Or what was it like as the European settlers first encountered the Cherokees? The forests are full of mysteries.
We joined a great mob of Americans and friends at Stone Mountain, Georgia for the Fourth of July and although they didn't sing it, I've got Woodie Guthries old folk song spinning in my head, "This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Islands, to the Redwood forests to the gulf stream waters, this land was made for you and me."
I also love the great vistas of the west, the sunset crowning San Jacinto over Palm Springs, the snow-capped barren heaps of Mt Baldy and San Gorgonio, the jagged majesty of the Kaweahs towering over the the San Joaquin Valley.
But each part of the land has its own culture, history and mysteries that bid us come back to the forests, the deserts and marshes. There is magic in the land, and would that we could be re-enchanted. So much has been destroyed in the press of progress and quick wealth. Whole peoples have been eliminated, species crossed of the lists, ways of life reduced to fairy tales.
The ancient Hebrews read their calamities in light of the divine covenant. When they lived in obedience and harmony with each other and their neighbors, God blessed them with the fruit of the land. When they ignored those blessings, deprived the poor, widows, orphans and strangers of their rights, and spilled blood needlessly, the land was taken away.
It may not be long.
--georgos
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