A lot of water has passed under the bridge, figuratively speaking, since our last issue of Talking Leaves. (Literally speaking, however, we've had a drought, and the rains are only just starting again as of late October.) Since Lost Valley's human residents have been too busy to keep track of it all and report it with some sense of perspective, I have been drafted to try to provide an update and overview.
While our Fall issue was at the printer, Laura Kemp presented her "Songwriting in the Garden" workshop and concert at Lost Valley on August 17. From my vantage point high in a Douglas fir tree, it looked like a smashing success. The ten or so people in the workshop each had a chance to share their experiences and ideas, and learned from Laura that it may take years of playing other people's music before one discovers one's own songwriting voice. I know this is true in the bird world: many Lazuli buntings shamelessly plagiarize their neighbors' songs before finally settling on their own. And most starlings are outright copycats. The humans in the workshop all seemed to finish it feeling more empowered to make music, or to pursue whatever form of creative expression shakes their tree. In the evening, Laura performed a beautiful solo concert of her own intimate, personal, multidimensional folk music on the lawn outside the main lodge. Community members and attendees of Lisle's Pacific Northwest Sustainable Future program soaked it in, and one woman even tried to convince Laura to fly to Germany to do a concert. That's a little far to fly, in my opinion, especially carrying a guitar. (Plus, Laura has a garden to tend to, not to mention two cats to keep in check.)
Some of my favorite long-time earth-loving friends attended the sixth annual Regional Permaculture Gathering at Lost Valley, September 13-15. Tom Ward made a special appearance to talk about social forestry (the only kind I can wholeheartedly recommend), Alan Kapuler gave a keynote address on everything under the sun, Mark Lakeman talked about the work of Portland's City Repair Project, a panel discussed the complexities and implications of genetic engineering, and many others shared their work in sessions large and small and in encounters planned and spontaneous. From my flicker's-eye view, this is how human beings were meant to be: strong, self-expressive individuals, flocking together for common ends and in a common spirit, helping create a better neighborhood on earth for everyone. Finally, you headstrong apes are catching on.
This natural sensitivity is being expressed on interpersonal and personal levels as well, in workshops like Naka-Ima, Breathe, The Practice, The Heart of Healing, and Compassionate Communication. I can't report much on these, because no one will let me into the room, but the people who go through them seem to emerge a lot less tied up in emotional and mental knots and much more able to feel their connections with every part of the world around them, including me.
A bunch of Lost Valleyites did a temporary migration to the Bioneers Conference in San Rafael, CA, where eco-oriented humans of a feather flock together every October. As usual, those involved found abundant inspiration for their earth-oriented and people-serving work, much food for thought, and a sense of a greater, extended community. Then it was back to Lost Valley, to harvest the last green tomatoes, plant garlic and cover-crops, mulch beds, turn off the irrigation water, and settle into eating the wintertime crops.
Conferences in recent months have included the American Holistic Veterinarians, a second "Joining the Chorus of Life!" workshop with Joules Graves, and, coming right up, our twelfth annual Permaculture Design Course. Already, 40 out of 52 weekends are booked in the conference center for 2003.
Humans have such complicated lives, trying to make ends meet! Lost Valley has been financially challenged this year, and its various measures to address this situation include a fundraising mailing that many of you readers will have received. Please respond! The foundation of every membership-based nonprofit organization is membership. Thanks to Lost Valley Educational Center's presence here, I am assured of a good life, free from logging, habitat elimination, and other harassment. However, purchasing and maintaining the land and facilities have cost significant amounts of money, and Lost Valley is not supported by tax dollars nor can it have profit-seeking investors. If Lost Valley feels like "your country" to you, be patriotic and send in your donation or membership contribution today!
The community continues to change and grow, with some new members moving into the newly-completed fourplex units and other prospective members expressing interest in being here. Change is afoot in staffing as well, with several conference center jobs opening up. (Unfortunately, I have been told that "Flickers need not apply.") A Design Team has been working on assessing the organization's structural strengths and weaknesses, and coming up with ideas for restructuring that will address some of the challenges. At least once a year, I've noticed, the Lost Valley organization molts. It's dependable. And it's just as dependable that its new plumage is unique and beautiful, and that inside, the same heart keeps beating. So next year will be kind of the same, and kind of different, from 2002. I'm sure of it.
I was flattered that the Lost Creek Watershed Bird Class paid me a visit in early October. I plan to return the favor when the group starts meeting again in the spring. Perhaps I'll write about it, or maybe not. Until then, keep your wings dry.
©2002 Talking Leaves
Winter 2003
Volume 12, Number 4
Animals, Earth