Spirit of Place

On my walk this morning, I was blessed to see a neighbor I had not seen in several months.  We walked a ways together, and then said our goodbyes in front of her house.  I noticed some beautiful yellow roses growing along side the stairs leading up to her front door. 

"I think that must be an old rose bush.  It was here when we moved in and that was about 15 years ago." I thought of the phrase, "spirit of place," and maybe that is what I have been experiencing these past few months. As I mentioned, San Leandro used to be filled with orchards and family run nurseries.  Tyler also heard that our area used to be known for its poultry farms, but we have not substantiated that story.   Regardless, this does seem to be a fertile land, and once again I found myself grateful for those who came before us.  Those who planted and tended, and then moved on.  While I think this city has made some rather large mistakes by not shepherding its growth more thoughtfully, the spirit of place does seem to quietly endure, and to bless.   

  

It is you who transforms the wilderness into a land full of springs 

You who invites the hungry to live in this good place 

To sow fields, and plant vineyards that yield sweet fruits.  

 

from Psalm 107, translated by Betty Bracha Stone