Tag: Nature

Persistence

The day began with an unexpected twist. A chick was left unattended and even though the night had not been cold, the mother’s warmth was lacking and the chick was barely alive. I’ve seen this before and knew the warmth of my hands would be enough to rejuvenate the little one. Soon enough the feet began to move and the chirps became stronger. When I attempted to return the chick, the dubious mother was wary. I placed the chick at a safe distance for her to hopefully recognize him and sheltered both of them from the other chickens, not knowing what might transpire. At last glance, the mom was still sitting on her nest and the chick had found a way to nestle in beside her. Persistence is a gift.

Knowing what you need is also a gift. The chick needed warmth, water, a bit of food, to be cared for and it chirped and gathered strength to find its way. And apparently, I needed to be observant and to recognize what I could do for the little guy and what was not in my domain. 

I can’t say what will be the chick’s future. I don’t know whether it will continue to thrive. But I do know that what we shared in a brief moment of time was precious. 

It has become cliche to say, “Small acts of kindness matter”, but it’s true. And the act of giving kindness is never solely for the recipient. The giver reaps equal reward.

There’s a movement afoot to end the need for charity. Think of that. To live in a world where the systems of oppression no longer hold us hostage, and kindness rules.

I believe that world is not only possible, but here for those who choose it.  

 

Day 1.

Day 2. And the colorings and the yellow feet tell me he is a rooster.

Not Always As It Seems

Have you noticed round growths on oak trees? I had seen them a few years ago, and looked them up and promptly forgot what I read. Now they’re reappearing and since we’re trained to be alarmed by the unusual, I began reading up on them again. It turns out most authorities agree they are harmless, just unsightly. But unsightly is enough for many people to seek ways to eradicate them.

Apparently, insects and mostly non stinging wasps lay their eggs on the tree and these balls, or more reverently known as galls, develop like a cocoon to protect and to feed the larva. Once the insects mature and fly the coop, the galls dry and drop from the tree. That is, if human beings can wait that long. Most articles state galls are harmless and then give numerous methods of removal. Some include pesticides.

As someone who’s not willing to sacrifice benefit for unsightly, I kept reading until I found a delightful article on these galls, of which there are many types. This article did not even hint at removal. In fact, it talked about the fun to be had with the galls once they drop. It even explained an interesting human use for the galls. It seems some clever wench about the 4th Century AD found a way to make ink from the gall, combining its acid with iron sulfate and gum Arabic. This amazing discovery was used in the writing of the first Bible and continued on to be used in the writing of the Declaration of Independence. Even the original United States Postal Service used it until replacing gall ink with chemicals.

What can be learned here? Let’s forego premature evaluation based on appearance and stop losing our collective memory to superficiality and looking good. Wisdom, it’s in our DNA. Dig a little.

The Promise of Spring

It’s a magnificent spring. Just enough rain and warmth to make the apple blossoms pop and the hum of happy bees fills the air. The lilacs seem to be more fragrant and the flowers are jubilantly beginning their display. I saw my first fawn this year chasing their mama and mushrooms are emerging from their slumber. Nature has a way of reminding us what is important when we pay attention.

It’s easy these days to be sidetracked by the endless attacks on goodwill, but I don’t think it’s wise to forget the renewal of spring as discontent continues to spread. It’s the resilience spring teaches that is needed now. It’s the wonder of life and of the seasons, which we know will come and go and come again. Yes, the deer may visit the garden and if not the deer, the rabbits or groundhogs will feast on everything we plant. Well thankfully not everything! But it does seem no matter how high the fence, someone gets in. Gardening is not for the weak of heart. There is no certainty. Learning to live in uncertainty is an art and a practice. Last year’s June frost took out the tomatoes we planted, but friends shared their extra plants with us and all went well.

Now, regardless of what comes, this is our moment to drink in the promise that is spring.

There is a healthy fear that gives warning and there is a paralyzing fear that weaken us. We are not meant for paralyzing fear. We are meant to be emergent. We are meant to be creative. We must be undaunted by forces that would rock our gardens and our lives. 

I will always believe there are more people wanting peace than the alternative. I have been witness to it. Let us find one another. Let us help one another. Let us model the best of what humanity can be. 

It is still ours to create this beautiful garden.