@Summer Koester, this got under my skin in the best and worst ways. The worst—because I know exactly what you mean. The best—because you wrote it. Because you said it.
The way you wove destruction and survival, history and wildfire, scarcity and abundance—it’s all here. The smoke, the ravens, the salmon guts, the bite taken out of the moon. The brutal choices forced on people who should never have to make them: cash or roads? Cash or schools? Cash or community? The way it all turns into a fight instead of a future.
I know that longing, the one that runs through your words. To live with the land, with the cycles of life instead of breaking ourselves—and everything else—against them. To build something sustainable, where investment isn’t just in numbers on a budget but in people, place, and possibility.
You ask: where is the beginning? Maybe it’s here. In naming it. In refusing to forget. In calling each other back to something better.
I don’t know if time or the ravens will tell. Maybe it’s us.
How to be torn down the middle and still survive, much less thrive… DILEMMA is the word these days for me. Do we really have to keep choosing the lesser of evils? Seems so for now. Thank you, Summer 🙏🏼
oh Summer, devastatingly beautiful writing. i wish it were fiction. and you share so honestly why someone might not trust "the suits" with the set aside funds while holding the coming together as community in deep regard. please take as gentle care of your heart as you have the bandwidth for right now. sending you a hug from further down the coast. xoxo
Classically beautiful writing. Thanks, Summer. There are so many heart-grabbing thoughts; concepts transposable to our country in its current pain and decimation of culture and kindness. I felt every moment. Even the cold. It isn't cold here right now, but autumn/fall is making itself felt. Soon enough, there will be snow in the south and centre. And I remember my two winters in Norway where gloveless fingers stuck, iced, to iron railings.
@Summer Koester, this got under my skin in the best and worst ways. The worst—because I know exactly what you mean. The best—because you wrote it. Because you said it.
The way you wove destruction and survival, history and wildfire, scarcity and abundance—it’s all here. The smoke, the ravens, the salmon guts, the bite taken out of the moon. The brutal choices forced on people who should never have to make them: cash or roads? Cash or schools? Cash or community? The way it all turns into a fight instead of a future.
I know that longing, the one that runs through your words. To live with the land, with the cycles of life instead of breaking ourselves—and everything else—against them. To build something sustainable, where investment isn’t just in numbers on a budget but in people, place, and possibility.
You ask: where is the beginning? Maybe it’s here. In naming it. In refusing to forget. In calling each other back to something better.
I don’t know if time or the ravens will tell. Maybe it’s us.
I hope so. That gives me hope! Thanks as always, Jay!
Beautifully written, Summer! I feel this connection between greedy men and our environment.
Thank you! And right?! It's all connected, of course.
Beautifully written. Thank you for reposting it. I had missed it the first time.
Thank you, Sue!
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. THANK YOU!!!
Thanks so much, Skipp!
Absolutely stunning.
Thank you so much, Isabel!
So well said and so timely, five years later!
Thanks so much, Katie! And it was good to see you at the rally!!!! How did your event go?
How to be torn down the middle and still survive, much less thrive… DILEMMA is the word these days for me. Do we really have to keep choosing the lesser of evils? Seems so for now. Thank you, Summer 🙏🏼
Right? Great question. Thank you, Bill!
oh Summer, devastatingly beautiful writing. i wish it were fiction. and you share so honestly why someone might not trust "the suits" with the set aside funds while holding the coming together as community in deep regard. please take as gentle care of your heart as you have the bandwidth for right now. sending you a hug from further down the coast. xoxo
Thank you so much, Anne!
Classically beautiful writing. Thanks, Summer. There are so many heart-grabbing thoughts; concepts transposable to our country in its current pain and decimation of culture and kindness. I felt every moment. Even the cold. It isn't cold here right now, but autumn/fall is making itself felt. Soon enough, there will be snow in the south and centre. And I remember my two winters in Norway where gloveless fingers stuck, iced, to iron railings.
Sounds about right! Yes.
Thank you so much, Annie!