Sustainable Rogue Valley was started in mid 2015 by a group of Unitarian Universalists and their friends in Grants Pass, Oregon. We are open to everyone and hope if you are in the area and are interested in building a sustainable resilient community, you will join us.

We meet once a month on the fourth Sunday at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship,  129 NW E Street, Grants Pass, OR  at 12:30 pm.

Our Mission is:

To foster a vibrant and resilient community that makes use of sustainable practices, empowers us to share our skills and gifts, and confronts environmental and economic instability with determination to create a better life for all.

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One thought on “About Us

  1. I’m very appreciative of and grateful for all of the ideas shared at this morning’s UU service, especially for how applicable so many will be to my upcoming clean-up of the illegal landfill dump on the embankment of Gilbert Creek that constitutes one of my property lines. I wrote the following poem for this month’s poetry reading at the Grants Pass Art Museum. The assigned theme was “Oregon” — but I think it fits with Earth Day as well. I hope that by this time next year I will be settled enough to be able to join your group. At present both my time and financial commitments are stretched to their limits.

    Lessons From Oregon’s “Tree of Life”

    Oregon first captured the imagination
    of my northern Minnesota boyhood dreams
    by way of a bit of a movie star crush
    I developed on the kindly, forthright, steadfastly upright
    handsome, well-spoken, and dashingly handsome
    Senator Mark Hatfield, who made me want to go into politics
    the way Perry Mason made me want to go into law
    Eventually politics and law became journalism became theater
    then art and poetry, but all the same to my imagination, in a way

    Outside the Rogue River Community Center, waiting
    for a bus the other day, I began to study swirls in the bark
    on the expansive trunk of a western red cedar, named the Tree of Life
    by the first ones to name things on this soil, imagining a topographical map
    with the largest circles representing the depths of what is actual
    and each smaller, concentric circle representing an ascending height
    up to the realms of pure mythological belief. My youthful infatuation
    with Senator Mark Hatfield is virtually the only one still left standing
    the only one of which I’ve never been disabused by subsequent revelations
    first rumored, then documented and published in the press

    Arriving from Chicago to make my home in Grants Pass last October
    assuming the awesome responsibility of being a virtuous Oregonian
    inspired to be worthy of the awesome vistas of nature surrounding me
    I diligently pulled packing tape from every piece of bubble wrap
    smoothed, rolled and bagged it; re-captured and re-bagged
    every cornstarch-based packing peanut, separated crushed paper
    from soft foam from hard Styrofoam, double-bagged them all
    then stored them in my shed for recycling.

    This spring when I opened the shed to pass along my bounty
    I discovered rats had torn open the bags of packing peanuts
    had urinated and defecated all over the bags of bubble wrap
    paper and foam. Prior to that, I had seen no evidence of rats
    had not considered that they might be present on my property
    much less that they would bother with Styrofoam peanuts
    It must have been the virtuous cornstarch

    Last month when I discovered that the fifteen foot embankment
    to the creek running along my property was an illegal landfill dump
    carefully concealed but degrading and leaching into the water nevertheless
    immediately I sent a notice to the City, whose quick response was that
    I should call this contractor who offered good rates to the City, perhaps
    would offer me good rates as well, since it was my financial responsibility

    My neighbors were outraged when the local newspaper got wind of the story
    and ran an article on the front page. “It’s on you,” I was told, “It wasn’t a problem
    If you hadn’t reported it, no one would have reported it, and it wouldn’t be
    a problem now, unless you’re some kind of environmentalist.”
    “That stuff wouldn’t hurt the fish,” another assured me. A third explained
    how the creek washes the stuff down to the river, then the river washes it
    to the ocean, and then it’s gone. It happens all over the world. “Poor people
    have poor ways,” mused one sage. All over the world; how could one argue?

    Waiting that day in Rogue River, these thoughts revolved in my mind
    as I studied the swirls in the bark on the trunk of that cedar, contemplating
    its branches swooping upward, wondering if my vision of Senator Mark Hatfield
    could possibly have been anywhere close to who he was in reality. His day had been
    prior to Photoshop, so at least I feel certain that he actually was truthfully handsome

    copyright 2016, Philip D. Hughes-Luing
    March 12, 2016/ rev 3/18/16 rev 3/28/16 rev 4/1/16

    Like

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