When Old Joe proposed an option to set up a living family legacy for land conservation that would endure for all time, protected by the laws of this great land for all to enjoy, they eagerly agreed. It took a couple of years to get all the permits and paperwork in place but eventually the Paradise Natural Reserve was established.
They wanted to leave a place where everyone could enjoy the wonder of nature in all her beauty and forever experience the freedom it offered. The Reserve consisted of over twenty four thousand acres, each landowner contributing to the total. Old Joe donated all but the original two hundred acres of his land to the Paradise Natural Reserve and felt blessed every day when he thought of the gift he and his neighbours had given to future generations to enjoy.
It was on this Reserve land that the man had sheltered for the night. Here under this ancient massive oak tree, he grew up believing to be the tree of life from stories he heard from his parents. He smiled fondly as he remembered trying to hug the mighty base of the tree when he was quite young. He pushed back his cowboy hat even further as his eyes surveyed the land stretched out around him. He had been coming here for many years, long before old man Carter passed away, some ten years ago now. Old Joe had been quite the character he chuckled to himself, as he remembered the tough old man fondly.
He used to spend many hours sitting on the deck of the ranch house with Old Joe and his son, Jake, listening to the stories of life on the ranch and how it came into being.
He remembered Old Joe saying, “I used to spend many long hours beside my dad, Josiah and the rest of our family, cutting down trees and setting up fences, all mind you, without any fancy tools like you got now, just some handsaws, homemade nails, a good hammer and lotsa good ol' sweat. It was a much simpler life back then.”
With all the work Josiah and the family did, they had no problem proving Josiah’s claim under the Act and the government granted his title to the lands.
“In them days, you worked hard and you earned your supper at night." Old Joe would look at Jake when he said this and shake his head.
Unfortunately, Old Joe knew that Jake did not share his vision for the ranch, and it broke his old heart when Jake was old enough to move to the city and become an architect.
It wasn't until Old Joe died, living a long life like his father and grandfather before him, that Jake realized why it had been so important to his father, that Jake learn to love the land as he did and his father before him. Shortly after his father's death, an interested developer approached Jake with the opportunity to sell the two hundred acre ranch for more money that he could ever use in his lifetime. As he considered the offer, he came to the realization that the land meant more to him as his family's legacy than any amount of money could replace and after turning down the offer he moved back to the homestead and put his heart and soul into carrying on running the ranch the way his father would have wanted. The ranch provided only a small income so he supplemented this meagre amount with freelance architect work, providing for his family on the combined amount.
He added some new outbuildings, modern equipment to make the barns more efficient and some upgrades to the old farmhouse, but essentially, he was running it much as his father had in his time. Jake knew he would try to teach his youngsters what his father tried to teach him, but he knew they would be just the same as him and strike out as soon as they could to make a new life for themselves in the city.
The man drew up his outstretched legs and put his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath of the clean country air. This was as close to heaven as he was going to get for some time he thought to himself as he looked out over the gently waving grass and small bushes alongside the stream, as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. As his eyes watched the sun's progress, its brightness temporarily blinded him, but he couldn't seem to look away. Soon his eyes were no longer reflecting the sun, but seemed to be drawing it in. Had someone been there, they would have seen his irises completed consumed by two glowing orbs that burned with the sun's intensity. The orbs grew smaller as they seemed to be absorbed into the eyes until the glowing faded, and the eyes again reflected their natural green color.
A strange thought ran through his mind as he settled his cowboy hat on the top of his head. On this day, a new dawn for man had risen, and he looked towards the ridge to listen to the rooster's insistent call.
He raised his arm to check the time on his wristwatch. Strange, he thought to himself, how this natural movement seemed so unfamiliar, almost as if he had never done it before. He shrugged and noted the time, barely eight o'clock. He should be getting back to the city, but felt strangely reluctant to move, remaining where he was for a few more minutes, seeing things he had always taken for granted, as if for the first time truly seeing them.
The deep blue of the sky with its light airy puffs of white clouds, the heady mixture of fragrances carried from the wildflowers by the gentle breeze, the tiny ant as it made its way through the slim blades of grass. What a strange feeling. Even the bark of the tree pressing into his back through the suede coat seemed to be different. Everything he saw, or touched or heard seemed more magical, more intense. His senses more heightened than he had ever experienced before.
He shook his head with reluctance and drew his legs up to his chest. Any more of this and this nature boy won't even need a sleeping bag for an overnight stay, he thought to himself. Pushing away from the tree, he rose to his feet.
Kneeling down over the clear running stream, he scooped a mouthful of sweet water to his lips. The pure chill of it tickling his tongue as it trickled down his throat. He couldn't remember tasting anything so wonderful. He took another sip and reached back, grabbed his canteen and filled it to overflowing.
Stepping back from the bank of the stream, he gathered up his sleeping bag and backpack and slung them over his shoulder. Better get started, he thought, glancing back up at the sun, still an hour's hike back to the SUV. He looked to the crest of the hill, tempted to turn that way. Over there was his friend Jake and that wonderful apple orchard. His mouth watered as he thought of those sweet ripe apples, but he felt a strong pull to get back on the road and reluctantly started down the hill in the opposite direction. Next time I'll have more time, he said to himself and started to whistle.
As he made his way down, he felt at peace, renewed in mind and body. With each breath, he could feel his lungs expanding and his heart pumping. Felt the blood coursing through his body, each minute cell absorbing its energy. His mind was clear, his eyes seeing everything from a different perspective, from each blade of grass gently waving to the fantastic hues of the purple and pink petals of the wild flowers growing all around him, their fragrances mingling, forming an intoxicating nectar. The exquisite beauty caused him to stop and stand in place many times, allowing the sights and sounds to fill him. It had been too long since he had been back.
Eventually his feet would begin to move forward again.
As he looked out over the valley, he recalled a touching story Old Joe had told him and Jake many times.
“You boys are too young to know but at one time there used to be wild horses that roamed all over these parts. You should've seen them,” he said, “they had such majesty. They used to thrive on these sweet grasses, the warm sun on their backs, knowing they were safe here and every year many new ones would be born to the strongest mares. Those horses never bothered anyone.
“Then, one day, fall came early and we knew the snows would be coming soon so we took off to go round up the cattle from the upper hills. Those men must have been waiting for us to leave cause while we were gone they brought their guns and they slaughtered every one of those beautiful beasts, even the youngest foals.
“No one ever understood why and no one ever confessed to such a cowardly act.
“There was some talk among the ranchers hereabouts claiming the wild horses were taking the food from the cattle herds and had to go. Others thought it was a bunch of city folk, come out for the blood sport. There
were even some rumours that after all this time it was someone who took revenge against Josiah for his earlier patriotic beliefs.
“Some days I still wander out over these hills, and valleys, just hoping to see those majestic beasts running free again, but all I see in my mind are those beautiful creatures, their sightless eyes staring up at me and all that I can do is stare back with silent regrets. I know there is nothing I could've done...but times, they are a changing, the simpler ways are gone but what I wouldn't give..." he couldn't finish, he'd humbly drop his head and touch the brim of his cowboy hat when he told that story and a tear would slide down his old, weathered cheek.
It made the man long to see the horses running through the valley, to see them through Old Joe’s eyes, wild and free.
********
The sun was climbing higher in the sky when he finally reached the SUV. The interior was already sweltering in the early morning heat. He rolled down the windows to allow the breeze to cool the interior while he sipped from his canteen.
He removed his cowboy hat, threw it on the back seat with the backpack, and ran his hand through his hair. Slipping behind the wheel, he started the engine, and put it in gear.
The two-lane blacktop stretched out before him; there were no cars in front and no cars behind. It looked like it would be a pleasant drive back to the city.
The scenery changed little along the road. Small groups of spindly trees stood alone in fields of wheat, the yellow of the flax fields adding a pleasant splash of color to the otherwise neutral honey color of the wheat and the dust from the dirt collecting along the roadway. They say you can see for days along this road and he smiled, he liked that feature the most about the country. Off in the distance he could see the smoky outline of the foothills. Visitors to the area mistakenly believed they were so close you could walk to them, but in reality, they were many miles away.
He was still too far from the city to get any of the bigger radio stations that he liked to listen to, so he settled for the local station out of Alyssa Falls, the only town for miles along the highway. He did remember many years back the local residents striking a deal with one of the bigger network stations in the city to establish a small satellite location combining a radio and TV station in the town. He had been quite surprised that they had agreed to it and was equally surprised to see that it was still thriving.
He always wondered how people made a living in Alyssa Falls. He had been in the town a few times when he was younger but had not been there for many years. I wonder if it has changed much, he thought to himself. The last time he was there his father had still been alive. Almost eight years since he passed and he still missed him a lot. He had been such a positive role model for him and he really missed the support and advice.
What he remembered of the town were about a dozen shops, a medical clinic, an insurance agent that catered to the local farms, a feed store, hardware and lumberyard, a gas station and a restaurant. There even used to be a video and grocery store all in one, something that you wouldn't see in the city anymore, what with Internet and cable services. Shaking his head, he honestly did not think he could live in such a small town, as much as he enjoyed the country, there would be just too much of the city to miss.
With Alyssa Falls at least a couple of miles off the highway, he always drove by the turnoff having no reason to go there. He glanced down at his gas gauge and realized that he was running low and should fill up before continuing into the city. He could feel something was drawing him towards it. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to revisit the town.
His parents used to love to spend their summers camping around here, enjoying the country and the beauty of the Paradise Natural Reserve.
Choosing to live in the suburbs gave them some of the peacefulness of the country with some of the comforts of the city. It also allowed them to be close enough to the University where they were both teachers, having completed their doctorates in Religious Sciences. They met while earning their Degrees and after graduation, they decided to remain at the University to teach instead of entering into a religious organization as ministers.
He remembered listening and enjoying their lessons, surprised at how much he had learned from them. They were an amazingly forward thinking couple that could project such a positive outlook on life, even in the toughest times. They used to attribute it to a belief in spirituality that carried them through. They taught him that it was important to seek out knowledge from many sources and never allow his mind to get stagnant, always challenging him, encouraging him never to accept the status quo.
His dad used to say, "Even those with PhDs can't possibly know everything about everything, so keep learning, keep searching, it's all about knowledge. You can't go wrong with knowing more. Remember that Philosophy is the ‘love of wisdom’."
Their unique blending of the old beliefs with the modern era ideals was some of the most enjoyable lessons they could have taught him. They believed in a common sense approach that combined theological, historical, and archaeological evidence to arrive at the truth rather than just taking something in a literal sense and not questioning it, using one's faith as proof enough.
“Could someone have faith and yes, believe in God and yet not be willing to explore the truth to know how some of the things referenced in their books actually happened?” They would often debate this concept with religious leaders.
People would say to his dad that it was because of their faith that they believed in God and they didn't need to see him to have that belief.
His dad would answer back, "Having faith can mean that but wouldn't God coming back be good for everyone, believer and non-believer?"
When they used to camp up here, by that very same oak tree they called the tree of life that he'd sheltered under last night, they would sit by the campfire and he would listen to his dad weave his stories. Sometimes hours would go by without either of them even noticing.
There was one story in particular that he remembered his father reciting, the passion would fill his voice and echo from his heart.
He would start with, “God empowered Jesus with a special divine gift to heal people of their sickness, disease, blindness, deafness, all manner of ills, and with this miraculous power bestowed upon him he could even raise the dead. Through these healing acts and his wondrous teachings about God, Jesus acquired a following of disciples and everyday people who came to believe in him."
His father would continue with, "Now many would agree and many would disagree, depending upon one's own interpretation and there are many individual interpretations, especially amongst Christians, that Jesus was the 'Messiah' or that he may have called himself that. In addition, just as many people would agree or disagree that he called himself or that others called him the Son of Man, Son of the Blessed One, King of Israel, King of the Jews, or the Christ.
“However, the significance of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, an animal which was the symbol of peace, unlike the horse, being an animal of war, he was making a public statement and claim as set out in prophesy about a 'Messiah' arriving in this manner. This was how Jesus made his triumphal entry into the city.
“The religious leaders of the day in Judea saw this and began to fear the power and following of Jesus, believing it would lead to unrest and revolution within their own religious beliefs, threatening their authority. Something had to be done before Jesus could further undermine and erode their laws, the teachings of their priests and the gathering of valuable offerings, both monetary and sacrificial. The only thing they could accuse him of however was practicing his healing on the Sabbath, the day on which no one was to work, but this was a minor offence. However, with Jesus' arrival in the city in the manner in which he came and then overturning the money changers tables in the temple courtyard, he now gave these religious leaders a reason to bring a charge of sedition or treason against him, an act punishable by death.
“But the priests still faced a dilemma as their own laws forbade th
e taking of a life; however, they knew that under Roman law, a conviction of a capital offense would require execution as punishment. This would get rid of Jesus and satisfy their needs, so they took Jesus to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor for his judgment and enforcement of Roman law.
“At first, Pilate could find nothing to charge Jesus with and was prepared to let him go, but when the religious leaders brought up the sedition, Pilate asked Jesus if he was in fact the King of the Jews, to which Jesus responded, ‘Yes it is as you say.’ Other than that statement, Jesus spoke very little and offered up nothing in his own defence when questioned by Pilate.
“Under Roman law, this claim would have been in direct violation of their laws and could threaten to undermine King Herod's authority. This forced Pilate to take action but he was curiously reluctant to make the decision himself, instead choosing to enact the Passover Amnesty option and let the people decide whom to execute, Jesus, or the already condemned prisoner, Barabbas.
The New World Covenant Page 2