Hi. I'm Molly Fisk. I live in Nevada City, CA, an old gold-mining town in the Sierra foothills. I'm a poet, and this is my first and only house. I was able to buy it in 1999 because I got a national arts grant for my poetry, which was enough for the down payment. If you paid taxes that year, 67 cents went to the granting program, and 35 poets received grants. That means you've already given me 2 cents, and I'm extremely grateful!

My front yard in April. The house is on the left, the road is on the right, out of sight. The cat is named Sid, short for Obsidian.

After I'd lived here for 16 years, planting trees, bushes, perennials, annuals, and pots full of zinnias, writing two books of poems and two of essays, commenting on the radio every week, and teaching cancer patients a method of writing that improves their immune systems, my county decided to widen my road — Newtown Road — for bicycle lanes. I'm not a cyclist myself, but I completely approve of bicycle lanes.

I wasn't thrilled, I'll admit it. I don't love change, and I really loved the  things I'd planted and kept alive for so long. Plus, there was a 60-foot pine that gave my house good shade. But I believe there are times when people are asked to sacrifice for the good of the community, and this time it was me. So I was ready to endure and not fight the project.

This is the same view as above — the yellow arch and bird feeder haven't moved. The fence is to keep cats off the road (it was hidden inside the bushes).

The roadwork began July 18th, and is slated to finish next week. It was harder than I expected, by about 2000%, but not through any fault of the workers. Those machines just rattle your teeth, they can't help it, it's like being inside an extended earthquake.

Culverts and pipes to go under the road, where Rush Creek flows in the winter.

View from the yellow arch in late August.

However, there were two surprises: As the front of my yard was removed and the road widened, they also raised the roadbed up four feet, which required truck-loads of dirt to be dumped in front of my house and then tamped down. Suddenly 1) I was at eye level with cars and had no privacy screening, so exhaust was coming in my front door, and 2) my house was full of dust.

Almost finished. That weird circular thing is a run-off drain.

I'm the only house this close to the road, and this is the only spot where the roadbed was lifted (to accomodate those big concrete culverts in the video above) and dirt was poured. The county has agreed to plant a line of bushes between me and the road, a gesture that I appreciate, although it will be some years before the plants grow big enough to screen out the traffic. But Nevada County's Risk Management department has decided the dust is not their fault.

So I'm turning to my friends (and any sympathetic strangers) for help: both in planting more screening and cleaning up the dust. We're holding a planting party in early October if you're local and you'd like to bring starts from your yard (that can stand full sun) or come help. The money raised here will purchase plants; mulch, fertilizer, oyster shell, and rock phosphate to improve the soil; those little sprayers and line to extend my existing watering system; and deep cleaning and pressure washing for the house.

I don't have much extra cash, but I'm a big believer in crowd sourcing, and have gotten a lot of pleasure from donating $5 here and there and then following someone's story. If you feel like donating, I'd be honored. Single dollars are definitely welcome. So are half-bags of leftover oyster shell from your garage, if you want to bring one over. And blowing kisses from across the country, or world. I appreciate you even reading this message!

Thank you.

xox
Molly & Sid, his sister Gracie, and Mia, Black Jack, and India Ink.


This is a photo of me being grateful!