Forty acres
10/01/2008

October 1, 2008

Forty acres

Three years ago, my husband and I bought 40 acres in north central Washington’s Methow Valley.  Driven from my native California by the spectacular price of real estate, we’d taken two location-hunting expeditions north and east in search of other residential possibilities.  We considered Joseph, Oregon, but decided it was too remote.  Then we saw a picture of the Methow in a book.  It was drop-the-book gorgeous and, as we read, just four hours equidistant from Seattle and Spokane—close enough to urban centers should we need them, as well as close enough to entice weekend fun-seekers, bringing outside infusions of cash.  We visited and fell in love.

 It took three more trips to find our own 40 acres, three miles outside of Twisp (that’s Okanogan for “yellow jacket”), two miles up Hwy 20, and two more miles up Upper Beaver Creek Road.  There, in a valley planted in alfalfa and surrounded by yellow hills, sits our property.  The lower field is plush with clover, giving way to a five-acre bench that still wears its native bunch grasses, except for two fertile acres newly planted in triticale.  Nestled on the far side of the bench is our building site, overlooking our own 500-foot wooded stretch of Beaver Creek, seven acres of wetlands and beyond that, pasturelands stretching up a ridge for 20 more acres.  It’s more land, and more beautiful land, than we ever dreamed of owning.  In fact, it seems strange that land this beautiful can belong to anybody.  A Blackfoot chief said:

 As long as the sun shines and the waters flow, this land will be here to give life to men and animals.  We cannot sell the lives of men and animals; therefore we cannot sell this land.  It was put here by the Great Spirit and we cannot sell it because it does not belong to us.  As a present to you, we will give you anything we have that you can take with you; but the land, never.

I live, though, in a culture where land is bought and sold.  If I did not buy this land, someone else would.  When we first saw the property and heard the price, we couldn’t believe our good fortune.  We never planned to buy 40 acres, but at $88,000 a 20-acre parcel, I heard myself saying, “Let’s take two!” 

So that’s what we did.  We bought two 20-acre parcels of undeveloped land. 

I realize now that the beauty of the land distracted us from all the work we would have to put into it.  After all, it was perfect the way it was.  Everything we have done to it since, except for erecting a tipi on it, has made it less beautiful, albeit more practical.  (A concern only to humans, so far as I can tell.)  We put in a road, two wells, electricity, a septic system, a retaining wall, a root cellar, fences, and pivot irrigation.  Disturbing the land allowed weeds to invade, but irrigating the land will enable crops, trees, and native grasses to grow again.  One day, I hope, the damage will be repaired and the land returned to its original beauty… only with a house and a workshop on it.  But that may take several more years.

Until then, I console myself that at least the sun still shines and the waters flow, giving life to men and animals.