I went for a walk Wednesday in the neighborhood. While I expected to see a little bit of color here and there I didn’t expect
Visual Poetry
The image above is exactly as I first saw it on the path before me. I removed nothing and I did very little to the image except sharpen it and add a bit of contrast. This is how it fell from the sumac tree beside the path—with such grace and beauty that I wish I could say that I created it’s arrangement.
Nature is an artist and creator. It is also a destroyer. But emergence, birth, growth, decay and destruction are all necessary parts of the cycles of life. There can be no new life if the old life does not die and feed the new emerging life.
To walk quietly till the miracle in everything speaks is poetry, whether we write it down or not.— Mark Nepo
When I showed this image to a photographer friend, she asked whether I had arranged the leaves so artistically. My response was, “Are you kidding? I’m not that good! I wish I was but I’m not.”
I love when nature writes visual poetry throughout the natural world. Sometimes it seems nature is waiting for someone to notice its poetry and beauty. And other times I think that nature doesn’t care whether anyone sees its beauty or not. Nature, or the life force, or whatever you want to call it, is a great mystery to me. If you want to hear a tale of wonder, ponder the evolution of life and the myriad forms of life that populate this planet. Then contemplate the vastness of the universe. Sometimes the sheer magnitude of all that we do not understand or know explodes any complacency I might have about understanding life.
Here is just one mind-blowing example of life’s amazing resilience and intelligence…
Mother Trees and the Intelligence of Nature
Recently I read the book, Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest by Suzanne Simard. One of the things that Suzanne discovered in her studies of the forest was that when a great Mother Tree died, she sent out a blast of carbon and food to all of the younger trees that she was connected with through her underground root/fungi networks. Think about that for a moment. Is it not amazing? I use the adjective ‘she’ intentionally here as I believe there is more intelligence in plants and animals than we humans realize.
Mother trees are also able to recognize kin. They send more nutrients to seedlings they are related to than to other nearby seedlings. And they cooperate with other species of trees and plants sharing nutrients and water in a vast symbiotic network. Whew. I need to say that again. Trees cooperate with one another and share resources with one another in a vast web of intelligence that we have just begun to penetrate.
We Are All One
This reminds me of the great self-centered hubris of many humans who think that plants and trees are just things that they can control, manipulate, and use. Nature reminds me regularly that we humans are simply a small part of the web of life. The turning of the seasons reminds me of how we are all part of this interconnected web. What affects one species impacts us all in the end.
“I don’t presume to grasp Aboriginal knowledge fully. It comes from a way of knowing the earth—an epistemology—different from that of my own culture. It speaks of being attuned to the blooming of the bitterroot, the running of the salmon, the cycles of the moon. Of knowing that we are tied to the land—the trees and animals and soil and water—and to one another, and that we have a responsibility to care for these connections and resources, ensuring the sustainability of these ecosystems for future generations and to honor those who came before. Of treading lightly, taking only what gifts we need, and giving back. Of showing humility toward and tolerance for all we are connected to in this circle of life.
― Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest
Though this season has been much warmer than normal the trees know that it’s time to let go of their leaves and prepare for winter. And the birds also know that it’s time to migrate. This week I saw that the coots had arrived on Medicine Lake. For me they are a harbinger of colder weather. When they arrive we usually begin to see the first frosts and colder weather. I wonder if that will be true this fall.
Fall is the Season of letting go
Though the fall colors are not the usual vivid swatches of color and many leaves are falling earlier than normal I still find great beauty in this season of letting go. The trees know that it’s time to let go of their leaves. And many flowers and plants are having a last hurrah before they too let go and either go dormant or die.
“To walk quietly till the miracle in everything speaks is poetry, whether we write it down or not.” — Mark Nepo
Today I’ve been contemplating, “What do I need to let go of so that new things can emerge in my life?” It’s a good question for this season. I noticed that over the past few months my life has been getting busier. Scarcely a day goes by that I am not going somewhere or doing something online with a friend. Yesterday my soul said, “ENOUGH BUSYNESS! It’s time to slow down.”
I need time to simply be idle and to restore my inner batteries. So I may be letting go of a few things over the next weeks that no longer serve me. Then I can nourish my soul and sink my roots into deeper healing practices.
Is there something you need to let go of in this letting go season, my friend?
May you walk in beauty.
Note: Photos from my walk in Wednesday over to French Regional Park.
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