No One Owns the Land

Marlane Ainsworth
11 minutes ago
2 min read

We just fool ourselves that we do

Man in checked shirt, black pants and straw hat stands beside seated woman, both facing the camera. They are in the bush, with distant ocean forming top half of the background. — A photo taken many years ago of Rob and I taking a break in the nature reserve on a walk from our property to the cliffs overlooking the Southern Ocean near Lowlands Beach. The ocean is in the top half of the photo. No one owns the earth, the ocean or the sky. We just fool ourselves that we do.

I have a piece of paper upstairs in a black ring-binder stating that I (and Rob) own 8 hectares of land at Lot 4824 in Lowlands, Western Australia. This means I pay rates for it, must ensure firebreaks are in place, and have the right to put up a sign saying KEEP OUT at the top of the drive way, if I’m so inclined.

So, when our seven-year-old grandson came for a visit and asked how much land we owned, I took him to the highest hill on the property for an overview.

‘Wow!’ he said. ‘That’s a lot of land.’

‘Yes,” I agreed somewhat smugly.

It was only later, when he’d gone home to Perth, that I realised my serious mistake. I’d missed an opportunity to explain something crucial to his understanding.

I should have sat down on that sandy hill surrounded with natural bushland and said this instead.

‘Well, Lucas, no one owns the Earth really. Many of us have a bit of paper that says we do, but the Earth belongs to itself.’

Knowing Lucas, he would’ve frowned thoughtfully and looked around at the vista again, trying to make sense of my words.

‘I’m just borrowing this patch of land for a short while,’ I should’ve continued. ‘One day I won’t be here, and someone else will have a bit of paper in a file that states that they own it. But no one ever does.’

‘So why do you have that bit of paper?’

‘The thing is that I can take it to mean that it is mine. It belongs to me, me, me!’ I’d bang my chest here to show pride and arrogance. ‘But like the Minang Noongar people who traditionally walked through this area they call Eungedup, I’m merely a custodian.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘A custodian is someone who cares for something. So, in reality, that piece of paper means that I’m here to watch over this land. Appreciate it. Enjoy its qualities. Share its beauty with those who visit. Like I’m doing now, with you.’

Ah, the missed opportunities to be wise that litter my life like multi-coloured sprinkles on a birthday cake!