↑ Fountain and manmade river in Blackhawk Plaza mall, home to approximately zero Blackhawks.
Blackhawk – Recent heat waves, droughts, wildfires, and mass migrations have made residents of this once-insular community aware that their lives are, in fact, connected to an ecosystem and the larger biosphere.
“Driving between Chevron and the club every week, I had no idea!” said second-generation Blackhawk resident Heidi Henderson. “Then one day I look up and see this giant cloud of smoke in the sky! Then a letter arrives telling us to ration our water. I thought, well, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade! But at the store there were no lemons. That’s when it really hit me. I’ll have to make Sunny Delight.” At this point in the interview, Ms. Henderson became too emotional to continue speaking, and hastily drove off in her Chevy Tahoe.
Similar sentiments are now being experienced across the region.
“When I first moved here, they said it was an exclusive community, and I thought that was a good thing,” recalled Diablo Country Club member Jim Helfrik. “But then I stopped and asked myself: exclusive of who? I mean, besides the Mexicans. And they even let them in to do our gardening.”
Mr. Helfrik gestured to large swaths of golf course, brown due to water restriction. “Never thought I’d see that.” He put his driver in his golf bag and squinted with resolve. “Bottom line? We need more. Our own water, our own power, our own food supply. Only then can we close the gates to this community and truly know that we don’t need you people. Because it’s really embarrassing when we have to ask for something. I mean, besides pool cleaning and leaf blowing.”
At the club, members gathered around a computer, where a caddy showed them Google Earth, slowly zooming out from the club to reveal the larger world. “Will you look at that?” marveled Ms. Henderson. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? It’s like that song ‘From a Distance.’ I love that song.”