I have to ask, again and again:  Are we our brother’s keeper?  You read repeatedly how state after state is slashing their budget for mental health services.  Sure, states can’t afford to continue to pay for upkeep of their mental health hospitals so many of them are closing.  The services in the communities are often not supported; even services that have proved to be cost effective like peer centers.

People will still suffer.  The jails, not hospitals, now contain the largest population of the mentally ill.  Many are in for minor offenses.  Is that right?  As if the politicians don’t know that?  This population is the most vulnerable.  ER’s are increasingly being filled with those in crisis and it is very difficult to find an appropriate place for them to go.

We will be judged by how we treat the weak and vulnerable.  I will ask the politicians, again, are you your brothers’ keeper?  It costs a lot of money to treat the mentally ill in jail.  The money could be better spent in the community.  The mentally ill do not belong in jail.

People are suffering unnecessarily.  The general public is also complicit in this situation.  There was a reason state hospitals were often in the country.  Out of sight, out of mind although it is true decades ago they were called rest homes.  There were none of the medications available and often all some of the people in crisis needed was some peace and quiet and time to regain their equilibrium.

The public and the politicians need to ask themselves are we our brothers’ keeper?  And support the services that are needed to humanely treat the mentally ill.  By all means the states need to spend their money wisely.  But acting as if the problems will vanish and expecting the jails to treat the mentally ill is not right.

It could be your loved one?  After all, one out of four have been diagnosed mentally ill in their lifetime.  And you would want proper and humane treatment for your loved ones.  Or even you?  So we have to keep asking ourselves (and the politicians) are we our brothers’ keeper?

Three deer bounded across the road right in front of me coming from the large meadow.  They must have been holed up in the tract of woods adjacent to my property.  It was an unusual spot to see deer.  Though there were deer tracks in the snow in my driveway a few weeks ago.  In the eight years I have only seen two deer here.  The three deer looked like they were fawns not yet completely grown.  Hunting season was long past.  They were heading toward the farmland and the forest beyond.  I was just surprised to see them here so close to my property.  There are other animals in the vicinity but they usually stay out of our view.  The juxtaposition of animals with civilization has always fascinated me.  And we are on the edge of country.  You just never know what you are going to see.

We have been home (from the Jersey Shore) less than 24 hours and what I most appreciate is the quiet here.  All I hear here is the ?crickets or is it the ?cicadas.  And the occasional “whoosh” of a car passing nearby.

The bed and breakfast we stayed at for three nights was on a busy road.  It was very difficult to make a left hand turn.  It was only a block away from the ocean.  New Jersey just had too many people.

For some reason I become very unsettled in crowded areas.  It is not my fault.  I just do.  I will appreciate my house better.  It is not on a main fare.  I watch the birds come to and fro my feeders all day.  Especially the hummingbirds who never fail to delight me.

There is a reason mental hospitals always were situated in the country.  They used to be called rest homes.  Many years ago the array of medications to treat mental illness did not exist.

People who had nervous breakdowns were sent to hospitals in the countryside to recuperate and recover.  There is nothing like the calm found in nature to do so.

I will appreciate my home better.  It is just a relief to be here.  My trip to the Jersey shore reminded me how fortunate I am to be on the edge of country.

The Edge Of Country

Author: siggy

I have always lived at the edge of country.  Of course, some people are more divorced from it if they are surrounded by concrete but it is always there you just have to look a little harder.

Growing up I watched my mother plant vegetables and flowers and other things.  We had a mulberry and fig and apricot tree and some of the biggest blackberries I have ever seen.

It was a small plot of land but she tilled it well.  We had fresh string beans and tomatoes.  She loved roses.  The garden was a place she could disappear in.  And she often did for hours.

We lived in a bustling little city but that garden we had was an introduction to many things.  I learned to love deep red stemmed roses.

On weekends my father brought us into the country, mountains and shore but most of my life I lived in the edge of country.  I learned to appreciate what came my way.

Today I still love birds.  I have several bird feeders that I can view from our large living room windows and watch a steady parade of chickadees and titmouse and woodpeckers just to name a few.

It all started in Mom’s garden and the weekend trips we took as a family.  I learned to love the mountains and trees and lakes and and so many other things.

I have fallen in love with Central Pennsylvania especially the county I live in–Perry County.  It is God’s country if you allow me to be that presumptuous.  There is open space here.  Farms, valleys and two major rivers, the Susquehanna and the Juniata, lay here.

The ride up the Juniata valley on Route 322 literally takes my breath away:  it is so beautiful.  Closer to home, every time I drive into town I want to capture its beauty on film of the view offered from the hill of the Susquehanna River and its valley crisscrossed by various small islands.

I live on the edge of country.  From my window I watch the birds come to and fro my feeders.  I was thrilled yesterday when I saw an indigo bunting alight on the ground.

We have had bears raid our bird feeders several times.  In fact, this state is second in the nation for bear hunting.  The smallmouth bass fishing from the two Rivers is superb.  I never forgot my first trips up the Rivers on a airboat.  It was like entering a world I had no idea even existed.

There is so much beauty here and people who have lived here all their lives do not always fully appreciate it.  I do.  I grew up near NYC where there were not too many open spaces.

We are less than an hour away from Hershey and Harrisburg, maybe three hours from NYC and Baltimore.  It is the best of two worlds.  I do not take this beauty here for granted.  The neighboring counties are running out of land to build on.

I would like Perry County to remain in an unspoiled state as much as possible for the next generation and subsequent ones.  Perry County is a treasure I would like others to experience.

I live in paradise.  My house is on the edge of the country.  There is a farm a quarter of a mile away.  goats3Within a mile a family has chickens, goats, and horses.  I love seeing the baby goats when they are so tiny.

The view from my large living room window is another portal into paradise.  I watch a steady stream of birds come into my view.  Birds I have never seen anywhere appear at my feeders like the magnificent red bellied woodpecker.  About once a year I see the exotic fifteen-inch red crested piliated woodpecker although it is far more likely I hear its wild cackle first.

We even had a brush or two from the local black bear who now stays away.  Our four dogs who now are enclosed by a large wooden picket fence now frighten him away.

There is so much beauty here and sometimes I do not see it.  I forget I grew up in the city–a large town.  I can see cottontails play outside from my kitchen window.  My two friends, a couple I have know for years, are going to visit us next week from NYC.  To them this is wild country.woodscreek I now have to view the land from their standpoint, change my perspective.  It is too easy to become blind to your surroundings.  Somehow I need to lift the veil that has grown in front of me and again see the beauty around me.

I had fallen in love with Central Pa.  I knew things had changed when once I was coming back from NJ (where I had lived for the past two decades) and I thought, “I am coming home”.  It is paradise here and I have to remind myself of that fact.  Every time I drive up the Juanita Valley, my breath is taken away by its magnificent view of the River and its surrounding mountains.  Even closer to home, when I drive into town from the back way and peer down into the Susquehanna River Valley, I can easily imagine I am viewing the fjords of Norway.  The universe is in my own backyard.  All I have to do is open my eyes.  It’s here.  I do not have to travel to Maine, Alaska or Hawaii.  It is all here.  Paradise.