Things have settled down quite a bit here in the Kern River Valley after the recent fires and floods, so I celebrated the beautiful morning by going to the dump. We are so spoiled here in the valley without any traffic, no long lines anywhere including the local DMV, terrific senior services and medical services, no violent crime or graffiti and the beauty of nature surrounding in all directions. I don’t generate much in the way of household trash so it takes nearly three months before my small truck has enough to make the trip to the local landfill necessary, but sometimes like this morning it is worth the while to just make the drive up to Kernville and around the lake while admiring the beauty of it all and count my blessings that I can live here.

Since I first came here in 1948 with my grandparents to live on the mining claim that is now Boulder Gulch Campground I have never lost my appreciation for this area and the beauty of it. Granted the lake going in and people moving here over the years has changed things considerably since I was a boy roaming the forest and fishing the Kern River and Bull Run Creek, but most of what remains like the surrounding mountains hasn’t succumbed to what some consider progress. We still have abundant clean air and water without any taint of industrial pollution, and you can still catch fish without any hint of mercury in them. Our valley remains the crown jewel of Kern County, and would retain that distinction if it were located elsewhere in most parts of America. But alas, the barbarians having never learned civilized ways are in evidence around the lake and along the river, leaving their trash scattered about for others to pick up after them and occasionally defacing or destroying public facilities.

Occasionally things can get hectic and what with fires and floods, all the firefighters and equipment it reminds me how quickly people face disaster and how much we depend on those we need to be there in emergencies. Police are often maligned but when you really need a cop we depend on them being there, and while things are really horrific in some areas of America and you wonder why anyone would even want the job any more here in the valley the local police do a great job for us folks. No small reason for counting my blessings I can live here.

I do live an enviable life of solitude for the better part with only the forest critters and the resident cat for company, ideal conditions for a writer, but when I do venture forth like this morning’s trip to the dump I’m reminded to be grateful I no longer have to live in places like downtown Los Angeles. Here I am treated to the evidence of a healthy environment; the butterflies, hummingbirds, quail, doves and baby lizards that tell me I am favored over many that are facing deteriorating conditions for habitation, places where children never see a butterfly or baby lizard in the wild, too often not even being able to see the stars at night.

On the way back from the dump I stopped at the Von’s grocery store and people would smile at me, and even if we didn’t know each other we would greet each other with a friendly “Howdy.” I sat on the tailgate of my truck for a while and viewed the surrounding mountains and people would smile as they passed by, often exchanging that friendly greeting with me. It was nice not to have to hurry anywhere. Of course, at my age I’m seldom in a hurry about much of anything.

We face an increasingly ugly and dangerous world, I often refuse to even turn the news on because I neither need nor want the reminders of how ugly and dangerous things are becoming. But here in the Kern River Valley people can still smile at each other and say “Howdy” without risking some gang member shooting you. I can sit in my yard without worrying about becoming a drive-by casualty of the inner city wars.

Fires have threatened and will doubtless continue to do so and I was once flooded here in Bodfish, but you will understand why I believe I am blessed by God above so many others just being able to call this part of the Sequoia National Forest my home all these years.