The Freest Free (Thoughts on Independence Day)

July 4th, 2012

            First view of Kings Canyon, California. A hearty "wow!" is appropriate. For a pseudo-Southwest boy, my awe at this most marvelous of West Coast canyons was profound on this Independence Day. The mighty Rio de los Reyes Santos cutting through its heart was considerably smaller due to the absence of snow this year, but still mighty. I miss the canyons. There is something remarkably comforting about gazing down into their depths, or staring up at their heights. They seem to carry this sense of freedom, escape, protection. Canyons call out to you, inviting you in, offering you silent bursts of understanding.

            From my days in New Mexico forward, I have always felt this keen familiarity in Canyon Country; a connection sometimes hard to grasp in this mad modern world. As if I’ve been there before, something about these ancient places, carved by millions of years of time draws me in. As if they’ll have the answer to any question one could possibly ask, somewhere within that stunning and absolute silence. In my history studies I’ve learned - not surprisingly - that canyons were often the final places of escape for many Native people of these Americas. When there was nowhere else left to flee from the unending violence and greed of the Spanish and English, and then later the Mexican and American invasions, often the First Nations sought out the canyons. The freedom and refuge of an enormous, protective womb in the Earth. The last refuge. The freest free.

            It got me thinking. While I have plenty of respect for the honest and humble people who hang flags with a good heart on this grand ceremonial day, there is no flag needed in the freest of places. Allegiance to Mother Earth needs no banner. In the freest free, there is no need to cover nationalist insecurity in cheaply manufactured (Chinese) cloth, much less the dark truths that those horrifically dishonest politicians and our shamefully uninformed countrymen and women hide behind that poor, abused, innocent piece of fabric.

            So some basic questions came to me in Kings Canyon this day: Why are the people who shout the loudest about “patriotism” the first to see this beautiful, sacred land raped and pillaged in the name of “progress” or “economic growth” or “development”? Why are they the first to support strip mining, clear cutting, oil drilling, nuclear testing? Immoral and unforgivable actions that have destroyed huge parts of this land, our country. How in God’s name can we possibly allow this behavior to be called “patriotism?”

            When you’re in the midst of the freest free – these great canyons – this tragic, glaring hypocrisy becomes obvious within that stunning silence. If you say you love this land, then defend it… from mining, logging, drilling, destruction, disgrace, pollution, pipelines, privatization, etc etc ad nauseum. Defend the land!