Most of us who live in St. Helena are hear for a reason. Granted, many were born here and maybe just never had the energy or desire to leave. Others more made a conscious decision to pick up stakes and move to this particular part of the world.
Why?
It’s not really a question with metaphysical implications.
Reasons, however, are varied. Some came for the schools. Some for the “pace.”
Ask yourself. What is it about St. Helena (or small towns in general) that you like? Is it the picket fences? Do you like the steeple of the Presbyterian Church as it pieces the fog in the morning? Maybe it’s the summer concerts in the park where Haley Mills sang America the Beautiful in Walt Disney’s Pollyanna.

Do you like the morning walks or a latte at the coffee shop? Maybe you like the vineyards as they change with the seasons from emerald virescence in the summer to violent orange and reds in the fall? Perhaps you like those 300 year old oaks and the brown grass in the summer which turns magically into a velvet green carpet in the spring.

Do you like knowing your neighbors? Feeling safe? Calling the cops by their first names—and knowing that they know you and might give you a break if you roll (inadvertently) through a stop sign?

Is it that your mailman or woman not only knows you by name (and vice versa) but might also be coaching your kid in little league? Is it that you might be coaching the Mayor’s kid in Rec ball, or watching your best friend’s kid knocking heads in a Carpy Gang game on Sunday’s.

Do you like that your kids can ride bikes or skateboard over to a neighbor’s house without undo the fear of strangers harming them?

Does it tickle you that merchants know who you are and that if you forget your wallet or check book, you can just come back and pay later?

Small towns everywhere have a certain je ne sais quoi. It’s an amalgam of many different “thangs” which all add up to a pleasant daily experience.

Much of what is enjoyable is the absence of what makes for “city living.” It’s quieter in small towns. The air is cleaner. There are fewer crowds—less traffic. Crime is almost none existent.

Much of a small town’s allure is visual—we’ve got the wooded western hills and the more barren eastern hills which bounce the sun’s rays until they turn purple during a summer sunset.

What thee and me may like about small town living might drive another person nuts. They may long for the glitter of Broadway and be repulsed by “cute little gas light bulbs” bought second hand from the San Francisco Pan Pacific International Expo in 1915.

It basically comes down to quality of life issues. Some of it is hard to quantify but like Potter Stewart said about Porn, “You know it when you see it.”
That’s why when City councils attempt to institute things like fire place bans, they are way out of line. They want to make us like the places we left.

Under the guise of looking out for our health they’re messing with the very reasons we came here in the first place—quality of life issues.

Remember when folks tried to do it with measure P. They didn’t want a fence, a barn, a chicken coop (to say nothing of cattle and horses) or vines within 150 of a dry ditch. It was scary. You couldn’t clear brush on your own property.

For some reason, Bureaucrats always want us to look like someplace else. They don’t get that we like the “feel” of our town. They want sidewalks, curbs and drains around our vineyards rather than country paths (like on Madrona). Perhaps we like the rural feel. If we wanted to live in a Santa Rosa subdivision, we’d do so.

We may loath leaf blowers, but love the authenticity of a chain saw. We know tractors raise dust and wish we didn’t have wind machines, but the trade off is worth it.

We like full size gyms for our children and playing fields galore. “Passive Parks” and community victory gardens for aged Hippies are not really a “St. Helena thing.” Or are they?

We recognize that produce at the farmers’ market does not come in sanitized plastic containers. We’re not complaining. We don’t want bureaucrats (tomorrow)passing legislation (to make food more “sanitary”) which takes away from the quality of life we came here to enjoy.

They've been talking about banning lawns, mandating "native plants only" landscaping, and of course, banning swimming pools--all "for the greater good."

Fire places pose no threat. Our air is clean. There is not one shred of evidence that particulate matter from fire places in a rural environment like ours causes any damage to any one. There just aren’t enough of them. Not one person complained—I asked.

But taking the hearth away from families causes a lot of damage. It not only intrudes on “A man’s Castle,” it works against “family time” in a cozy environment.

We have a “global warming” task force. What we need is a “quality of life task force” which acts as a check against bureaucrats and “staff” who would make decisions that rob of us our uniqueness—and especially the rural values which we embrace.

No thick red painted lines on country lanes. No curbs and gutters around vineyards. No $250,000 “green” school buses. And mostly, no fireplace bans.

There’s a certain amount of poetry and romance to living in a small town. Why are some so intent in taking that from us—all for our own good, of course?