"4A Group # 1"

1. The Big Valley by Mark Arex

2. Arax tells the story as a third generation land owner in the Fresno area, where J.C. Forkner built a fig growing empire in the early 1900's. Arax's grandfather, a survivor of Armenian genocide, was a migrant worker until he was finally able to buy a little vineyard of his own. Arax writes of seeing vast farmlands giving way to urban sprawl all within half a lifetime. He's a backyard farmer with big dreams, as was his dad, as though the farming is/was "in their blood". On his way to Tulare, his landmarks are the types of crops. He can tell how good or bad a year was by the condition of each field in winter; if it's being tended to or not. Still an area of farm fairs and people from the Azores and the Dutch and other countries, alongside the commercial developing. He sees farming dying, yet in need of coming full circle. His Dad was a backyard farmer...."it's in the blood".
3. My favorite paragraph is the last paragraph on page 19. "The roots beneath the clay die hard. In early spring, they send up shoots through the crannies of my backyard. Up from the ivy and bamboo come Forkner's old figs.I attack them with a shovel and shear, out of suburban necessity, I imagine, but the milk they bleed, sticky white, causes me to wonder. And yet my deathblow is something of a paradox, for I have turned large sections of flowerbed and lawn into orchard and vegetable garden. Like my grandfather and father, I am a backyard farmer with too little land for my dream."
4. "I am a backyard farmer with too little land for my dream." The reading made me think of how often this is the case in our lives, and especially for those growers and farmers. "The roots beneath the clay die hard." Roots of vineyards, of bamboo?
My uncle tried for years to get rid of bamboo in his Santa Rosa yard to make way for a little more garden space. But, could it also apply to the fact that the author, his father and grandfather all did the same? Is it the desire, legacy for growing/farming that is the root that dies hard and doesn't want to die at all? It's a way of life they've known and want to continue.

5. I knew how difficult it is for farmers to make a go of it these days. I realize that especially in California, developers are anxious to turn the remaining farmland into strip malls and "boxes". But, I never thought of, in a firsthand way, how this affects the farmer and his offspring in such a personal way. There are regrets that might "eat" at you for the rest of your life and theirs.

Transients In Paradise by Aimee Liu

Aimee Liu takes a good look at Beverly Hills, her city of residence. She highlights the contrast of the street beggars and "regular" folks and those of the elite star-studded tinsel people. She also talks of Richard. A man in a wheelchair who would station himself outside a deli and collect money for charity..his own charity.
She found out later that he was on his way to becoming a screenwriter when a degenerating disease put him in his current standing. It's not all black and white.
She sees the poor looking for help and the rich who conveniently don't see them. She sees these things as a struggle for herself in her own city.
My favorite part of the reading is the last paragraph on page 30...."Who is coming? Who is going? Who is staying, and for how long? A town like Beverly Hills puts up an impressive front of permanence, but no matter how massive the houses, how opulent the stores, how established the brokers of power and fame, or how deep their pockets, the truth of this place is as variable as the traffic passing down Wilshire Boulevard."
Oh the complexity of Beverly Hills. It reminds me of the first few high school class reunions. There are so many there who are trying to impress everyone with how well they've done, how far they've gone and how 'classy' they are. They feel on top of the world and look down their noses at the few who are not pretending and perhaps not in the same social status. Just like the street people and the star struck, under the surface, they're all the same kids in the same place. They're people...not the gods they'd like you to believe. And, it's so temporary.
I knew Beverly Hills was the rich kid's playground, but I didn't know the lengths that even made the city void of hospitals. People are sent to Los Angeles. I also didn't realize that there are some who live there, such as Ms. Liu, who actually see the city for what it is, including discontent. I thought that all of the residents were too self concerned to see beyond themselves.

Showing Off The Owens by T. Jefferson Parker

Showing Off The Owens is a story about the Owens River in the area of Bishop, California, and the avid trout fisherman that he is. He brings Brian Wiprod, a New York angler and novelist to this area for a fishing experience. And, they do catch lots of fish.
The first paragraph on page 35 has a statement I am all to familiar with, having grown up in a 'fishing family'. It states: "It's a progressive disease, like rabies,that starts with an innocuous bit then lies dormant. The bite may be a fish you were lucky enough to catch, might be the beauty of a river or the mountains around it, might even be a movie you saw....."However, the bug gets into you, it lodges, digs in then begins to grow."
As mentioned, the reading reminds me of my own dad and a cousin who was the son my dad never had. Fishing (and hunting) were their loves. They lived and breathed it. They were out in the boat whenever they could be. I didn't share their love, although invited along. Perhaps I never 'got bit'.
I am not familiar with much of southern California. I didn't realize that it was so easy to get to the mountains and that Bishop is apparently not too far from there. I do have a fair understanding about fly fishing, but I thought any such rivers would be void of much life in that area.

The Distant Cataract About Which We Do Not Speak by Mary Mackey

The story takes place in Sacramento on an island in the middle of the American River. The author and her husband find this area to be their isolated corner of the world, water, ducks, beavers, and very little sign of city. The Distant Cataract is her reference to the distant noise of traffic that is Sacramento, that they try to put out of their world when at this special place. The river is the place where residents of many different origins come for various purposes. She mentions Hmong families, Mexican, Central Americans, Samoans, Russians and Japanese among those who frequent this area, and some of the celebrations or rituals that they use the river to perform. The Japanese commemorate those lost at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August with a display of lit lanterns in the river, which must be beautiful. The ceremony was originally a commemoration of souls lost at sea. It truly is a beautiful get-away.
My favorite paragraph is the second on page 46. Speaking of her attempt to silently swim up to a group of mallards to be among them, with sunglasses and a blue baseball cap, she says: "For a moment I relish my presence among them. Again, I wonder why they are not seeing me. Does the bill on my baseball cap make me look like a large mallard? Does their universe include the possibility of a bright blue duck with no eyes or tail feathers?"
I think that at times, we may be the bright blue duck with no eyes or tail feathers. We may stand out from the norm, yet will we be accepted with 'blind eyes' and/or appreciated or sent away because of our differences? One mother duck saw her for something different, squawked and caused a mass departure. The others saw no difference, no need for alarm. When she saw the Samoans drinking and singing "Under the Boardwalk" or when she saw the Japanese ceremony for those lost she accepted them as part of her world. The cataract was the traffic, not the people. In turn, how did the Russian Orthodox members view her? Did the Japanese see her as the "American" and relate her to Hiroshima and Nagasaki tragedies? It's all in how we see one another as to how we succeed or fail.
I have seen the Riverboat at Old Sacramento, so I knew of the rivers, but I had no idea that there was an island and how you can be so close to a city the size of Sacramento and yet feel so secluded and isolated and with nature. I also didn't know there was such a diversity of peoples in the area.