A different kind of farming

Wind Farm Near Davis, WV

Years ago, when I first heard about the destructive surface mining practice of MTR (mountaintop removal) and saw the first photos of what these ancient mountains look like after the greedy and irresponsible coal companies are done blasting the tops of the mountains to smithereens, I had a vision of windmills riding the tops of the now-flat mountains, harnessing the plentiful winds that provide updrafts for eagles, hawks, and other birds to soar on. And when I say "vision," I mean that it was an actual, bona fide vision that came to me in a prophetic movie in my head. I didn't even know then exactly what the wind turbines looked like, but in the vision, they were whirling and dancing across the Allegheny ridges, bringing a new kind of energy to the mountains ravaged by centuries of extracting coal, timber, and any other natural commodity those companies could wring from the earth.

Aerial View of MTR Site

When Massey Energy and its CEO, Don Blankenship, were being indicted in Washington, I made repeated efforts to reach the company's marketing and PR departments, wanting to suggest to them that they consider the immediate erection of wind farms on the tops of those ruined mountains in an act of brilliant PR, retribution, and restitution. I had several call-backs from the marketing guy there, but we never connected, because the company, since purchased by another mining company with the help of Bank of America money, was under a gag order.


Those coal companies have clogged our Bureau of Mines with so many spurious appeals and lawsuits that we'll all be dead and gone -- just like the mountains -- before anyone is held responsible for the destruction wrought upon the land, the communities, and the individuals who live there. I gave up, figuring my vision must surely be shared by others who knew better than I how to bring wind farming to the Alleghenies.


When I went back to Canaan Valley in October, I rounded a bend in the road along old Route 50, and there they were!! Wind turbines -- scores of them -- riding along the ridges and dancing against the sky, just like in the vision I'd had! I was entranced by them, and Bob and I got as close to one as possible to make sure they were real. Every time I see them, I feel hope rising in my chest -- hope that once every ton of coal has been ripped from the mountains of this beautiful state, these wind farms and other alternative forms of energy will continue to provide cleaner power to West Virginians and others in nearby states.


To be sure, these wind farms are not yet on the flattened mountaintops that are now long gone -- creating "valley fill" that chokes off streams and causes flooding and black, toxic water in the valley bottoms. But I did see the wind farms so close to active surface mines that they seemed to be taunting those mine owners, dancing to a new tune that will bring us into a brighter future.

Peace in the valley

Canaan Valley at Dawn

In the lyrics to that wonderful gospel song most famously sung by Elvis, it says: "Well, I'm tired and so weary, but I must go along, till the Lord will come and call, call me away. Well the morning's so bright, and the Lamb is the light, and the night, night is as black as the sea, oh yes." Then comes the refrain, "There will be peace in the valley for me, some day. There will be peace in the valley for me, oh Lord I pray. There'll be no sadness, no sorrow, my Lord, no trouble I see. There will be peace in the valley for me."

That song -- and the fact that the Canaan Valley was named after the Biblical "Land of Canaan," though pronounced differently -- just might explain why this region of West Virginia has such a profound effect on me. I remember first going to Blackwater Falls a decade ago and wanting to return as soon as possible, which I did, going soon after with some of my Athens girlfriends. I saw photographs and artwork of the Dolly Sods, drove down into the valley along the Blackwater River gorge and marvelled at the incredible beauty of the place. I never forgot about it.

Blackwater River in Autumn

Then, in October, I returned and came home rejuvenated enough to start writing on Ajax Rock again, feeling that some part of me had been restored by hiking and visiting the valley and the Dolly Sods. But it didn't end there. The valley has beckoned me back two more times since then, and now I am hooked. I'm going back with Zach next week. It has given an all-new meaning to the term "Valley Girl," which described a materialistic and sort of empty-headed girl from California. This valley is almost by definition non-materialistic. It's where people get high on nature, where most of the land is either a national forest or a national wildlife refuge -- where people are drawn together to hike, fish, ski, tube, snowshoe, golf, climb, ride horses, whitewater, walk -- or simply to contemplate the beauty of their surroundings, read, paint, take photographs, weave, sculpt, or otherwise create things that mirror what surrounds them.

As far as I can tell, life is fairly simple there, as it often is where busy highways and consumerism and electronic gadgets are practically non-existent. The information superhighway has arrived in the Canaan Valley, but it's easy to forget you have a cell phone and even easier to snap that laptop computer closed in favor of going outdoors to see what surprise nature has for you -- wildlife, a spectacular sunset or sunrise, an early snowfall, a view that can't possibly be captured even with the most expensive Pentax or Nikon camera -- though people try.

View of the valley in summer

I did my Wiki research and found this: Canaan Valley is an oval, bowl-like upland valley in northeastern Tucker County, West Virginia, USA. Within it are extensive wetlands and the headwaters of the Blackwater River that spills out of the valley at Blackwater Falls. It is a well-known and partially undeveloped scenic attraction... In the Canaan Valley region, the Blackwater River began carving into the underlying sedimentary rock layers of Mississippian and Pennsylvanian age (345-270 millions years ago) about one million years ago.

Canaan Valley was designated a National Natural Landmark in 1974. The National Park Service citation indicates that the Valley is "a splendid 'museum' of Pleistocene habitats ... contain[ing] ... an aggregation of these habitats seldom found in the eastern United States. It is unique as a northern boreal relict community at this latitude by virtue of its size, elevation and diversity." Since 1994, almost 70% of the Valley has become the Canaan Valley National Wildlife Refuge, the nation's 500th National Wildlife Refuge.

A shrub in the valley's habitat

You can see why this special place calls me, can't you? In fact, I'm now thinking that when this house finally sells, I will be moving there where there is so much beauty that it will fill me up, inspire my writing, and give me the peace I'm searching for.

Returning to the lyrics of that lovely old gospel song, I offer this as a kind of prayer that this is where I am meant to be -- where I belong.

"Well, the bear will be gentle, and the wolf will be tame, and the lion shall lay down by the lamb. And the beasts from the wild shall be led by a child, and I'll be changed from this creature that I am."

Amen.

The pedestal house

In the Canaan Valley, my favorite part of the great state of West Virginia, is a lovely little development called "Black Bear Resort." It's close to three ski areas, including White Grass, and borders on a national wildlife refuge. It has an inn, swimming pool, tennis courts, and other amenities. But what gives it a special kind of charm is that all of the houses are variations on the one pictured here: the pedestal house. Compact and able to fit onto almost any building site, no matter the slope or terrain or composition of the soil, pedestal houses are ideal for mountain retreats. The vast majority of them are one-bedroom mini-houses with a living room that opens to a small kitchen and eat-in area, a small master bedroom, a spacious bathroom, and an upstairs loft for extra overnight guests. Here's a view from the loft in the nicest pedestal house currently for sale:

These are cleverly designed vacation homes with no wasted space, and at a distance, they look a bit like little spaceships on a launch pad or like big treehouses.


They are all arranged around a sort of common area with a lovely view of the refuge and the mountains and ski slopes in the distance. Hey, I am certainly not a resort person, but I find these little houses irresistible. Bob and I spent hours looking at the ones for sale (and for rent), finding one that is listed for only $122,000, all furnishings included. Rental income, when it's not in use, would likely cover a big chunk of the mortgage payment.


Of course, I'm in no position to even think about buying a house, and there is the issue of where Zach would or could live, but these little spaceships gave my creativity a jump-start. There's something enticing about being forced to pare down and live small. And a view like this one helps a lot.

So I have found a little dream-spot, a place I can envision myself living, never mind that it's not now on the list of real possibilities. And leaving Shepherdstown would be hard, trading in the sense of community here -- not to mention my church and friends I've made. What I think is calling to me is the same thing that called to my dad all those years -- the whisper that around that bend, over that mountain, across that meadow might be a place to call home. I once thought it was the seashore that beckoned me, but life in New England was a life devoid of the mountain people -- what Irene endearingly called my "peeps." It's that sense of place I wrote about years ago, that sort of genetic memory that pulls like a magnet back to a place where you feel you belong. It probably isn't Black Bear Resort (or any resort), but it's got my imagination soaring and my feet itching to travel, especially as I have to prepare to vacate this house where I've lived for 12 years and find another place to hang my hat. It's out there somewhere, and I just need to be open to where God leads me.

As the new year dawns, there are things we need to let go of and things we need to take up -- roads we have to follow. I just pray to know what they are and to discern the difference between my will and what God has in mind for me. This is as close as I come to making a new year's resolution.

Dropping the ball

No, I did not stay up to watch the ball drop (or as my Australian friend asked with bemusement in 1980, upon hearing about this odd tradition for the first time, "You watch what? Good on ya', mate.") Nope, I was by then fast asleep, having tired myself out organizing a close-to-home event at my church: the "Early-to-bed, potluck and board games New Year's Eve party."
It was fun! Good, clean fun. Good people, good food, good music, good decorations, good games. My team played Michael Feldman's "Whad' ya know?" and Norleen won the game, edging me out by two purple tokens. For that, she got a gold-star tiara in addition to her red one.

The tiaras and funny hats added just the right touch of silliness to our night. Kathy's looked especially cute, and some of the men wore cardboard top hats. With a silly hat and a blower, you've practically got a New Year's Eve party in the bag.
It's 2012, folks. Time's a'wastin!