Jerks with drones, and how we share the land

My partner and I are soon to be the newest additions to the tribe mentioned above. Photography is a relaxing hobby for us, and the prospect of pushing that even further sounded appealing. So we bought a drone. We haven't received it yet, but I've already begun phoning land owners and stewards to request that I may fly it over their land. As you can expect in a small New England town, most have responded with a reserved no, and I completely understand why. Drones are annoying, buzzing, blinking mosquitoes from hell. Unless you're flying one that is, in which case they're a blast. For me however, it brought to mind land use in a broader sense, that includes worship.

Few of us are blessed with large tracts of land, so naturally we seek them out in the form of parks, forests, bogs and the like. Beyond the obvious concerns of degradation and overuse, issues remain for Pagans with such communal land. Can we leave offerings, have a ritual flame, harvest wild edibles, or even just be there at twilight? Most rules and regulations are drafted consciously, but fail to take into account spiritual considerations. Thats not to say that they're invalid, but rather a dialogue between practitioner and steward is necessary. I have consistently found land owners are open to most requests, as long as you're completely clear about your intentions. Don't ask to leave some rushes on their hill, only to show up naked with 10 of your friends. 

As the Pagan community changes and grows, I imagine the issue of land use will be met repeatedly.  At first, with frustration and feelings of exclusion at times. Difficult at first, challenging experiences will push the next logical step, which is land acquisition. It doesn't seem much longer before Pagan organizations reach the financial and membership thresholds in order to make those wishes a reality. In the meantime, and always, we share the land we revere.

Tapadh Leibh

Owen