The Place I Want You To Visit

Written by Bright Sky

Sunday, August 22nd 2010

The House

A ritual walk to the cave with my matrilineal family sparked my earliest memory. Nestled in the Adirondack Park system, where a century ago my ancestors thrived, sits a house on a meadow surrounded by forest.

We used to gather before Labor Day, and sometimes Thanksgiving, to eat and celebrate. We played badminton and basketball, and talked under the willow tree. The cave walk was always the highlight of the gathering. We trekked through the forest, climbed down inside, and took turns drinking from the spring that flows through. To this day, it is the cleanest water I have ever tasted, always cold to the lips.

Most of the year, the house sits empty and unused. A gentleman has rented it every July for the past 15 years. He is the only one. Coming here is a rare look at life after humanity. A collapsed barn, an aging shed, a meager attempt at a garden. A small, empty grove back in the woods suggests a small lumbar operation came about a decade ago. The forest is already repopulating the space. Now, the estate feels pure; you can smell it more than anything else. The fresh air alone convinces you you’re in paradise.

The last time I visited was two years ago with my best friend, the summer before I went to Rome. This was my last taste of America before going abroad. I’ve always felt at home here, even being raised and educated elsewhere. This is the land of my mother’s ancestors, and my father’s hometown is not three hours away. This place calls to me, quiets my heart, fills me with spirit.

But it took nearly a year in Texas working with the SHIRE to see the true potential of this space. I’ve been here for less than a week, and I’ve already observed a robust and vibrant ecosystem. The plant communities work in fantastic tandem. The lawn is kept low by varieties of shrubs. Fast growing ferns reclaimed what were once logging roads. Moss acts as a nursing plant to evergreen seedlings. I’ve seen dozens of spiders and songbirds, toads, frogs, deer, a Coopers hawk, a red squirrel and a chipmunk sharing a tree close to the front porch; I’ve heard owls and wolves, watched pollinators of all kinds, bees, hummingbirds, dragonflies, butterflies. All these organisms are working in glorious union with each other, living in a space that was once cleared for human consumption, happily reclaimed by a web of creatures, each performing its duties to this rich biological network.

It is ready for the next step: the reintroduction of people.

The SHIRE’s mission is to build sustainable habitats, places where people can organize the landscape to highest yield without disrupting the natural cycles of plants and animals. Sustainability requires reciprocity, to invest in the environment first, in order to harvest from it later.

The lack of human activity has been a blessing. It’s established a cycle of abundance that can be tapped to support a community, human and otherwise. When I look now, I see places for graywater, fruit trees, a chicken coop and a goat pen. I see natural buildings and a community kitchen, rolling gardens framed by a majestic ancient forest. I see a bustling eco-village that invites and educates all those who want to learn. I see a place in the world that I look forward to returning to after each adventure. I see the next SHIRE site. I see my home.

The View