Imperfect, transient beings, groping our way through the darkness of our ignorance, occasionally learning to shed light on our situation, and always looking for what may give us an advantage, be it personal or as a society.
I see vast differences between our world and that of our fathers. Not as many as any of us would prefer, but tangible, undeniably better differences. Are they under attack? Yes, of course. If history teaches anything, it's that struggle will always remain at our core.
Quite remarkable, by the way, that you write from within the walls of your ancestral home. My great-grandfather bought his land, too, but my grandfather was unable to hold on. He lost his when the nascent Depression first hit the midwest in the mid-'20s. He was fortunate; he arrived in California well before the deluge, and managed to acquire another home before his untimely death in his early 60s. That home was too small and there were too many competing interests when my Grandmother passed, so the land was sold. Today, I live in my own home, mortgage-free, and hope to pass it to my children. As I'm close to the sea, though, I've advised them to sell it quickly when I'm gone, that they might escape another, quite different but just as inevitable, deluge that is building.