We Had This Place

There was this place in the world, where we were home.

For a decade, we occupied this place. We brought in topsoil. Slate. Beautiful flatrock. At the time, I worked at a nursery, and I brought in plants, shrubs, trees. Dave made art out of stumps and logs and burls. We stewarded that land and by that I mean we groomed it, pruned it, loved it. We were told that the place was ours to steward as long as we wanted.

I had cultivated native plants like sword ferns, arctistaphilus, trilliums, and all of the trees that grew on our claim. Western Red Cedar, Hemlock, Alder, Doug Fir, Holley…
Suddenly, our landlord decided to liquidate. We were out. Summarily.
Life went downhill from there. Try renting a place with a 70 lb german shepard. Well, anyway, yes, life went downhill from there. Eventually, the dog died of living three stories above ground.

Tonight, we went up the hill, to the top of Farmer road and watched the sun set. The moon was at three quarters. We gazed out at Gordon’s Bay and the straight of Juan de Fuca and we breathed deeply of the salt air.

I’m pretty sure there is no God.