This is very literally “close to home” for me. I live squarely in the middle of one of these little old Spanish villages, so I have the surreal and sad privilege of watching this tragic loss unfold on a daily basis. Many people like me are trying to support those who are preserving an entire culture, a way of life, which includes more than just language, but also agricultural and religious practices, art, a million other things.

How to mourn such a huge loss? Or should we carry on celebrating the fact that, at least for now, there’s still a heartbeat? There’s still water—some water—less and less annually, coursing through the ancient irrigation ditches. Still people at church, singing the songs. When I’m out there in the fields working, planting seeds, breaking bread with the elders, hearing stories about the “old way” when people really did manage to live off the land, I mostly feel inspired (versus sad) about what remains and what’s left to do. It’s the work of a lifetime, and there’s some peace in that.

Elizabeth Bishop: “The art of losing isn’t hard to master.”

Octavia Butler: “Change is God.”