Small Things

This week I was reminded once again that

can bring great joy.

Earlier this week I noticed what looked like a bit of lavender swaying in the breeze near the edge of the pond behind our house. I picked up my binoculars and looked closer. And I discovered an iris in bloom. I did not plant that iris in the pond and I have no idea how it arrived there. But it has been growing there for a couple of years at least, sending up leaves, storing energy in its roots, getting ready to bloom. And now, here it is!

I did some research and learned that it is known as Northern Blue Flag Iris. And according to the information I read the plant will double in size each year! I’ve been working on re-wilding the area near the pond in our backyard, mostly by simply watching what is growing there and leaving it alone. I’ve been pulling thistles that grow there but otherwise simply letting it be. But otherwise I’m watching to see what nature brings.

When we first moved here almost 20 years ago, there was a big old willow tree with three large trunks left standing near the pond. And there was a huge basswood tree growing near the house in the backyard.

I loved those trees so much.

But one by one the willow tree trunks fell. And the basswood tree was damaged in a storm, with half the tree falling on our deck. I mourned the loss of those beautiful mature trees thinking that the yard would never be the same. And I was right — it was different, but not less, simply different.

Change Creates Opportunities

Though I mourned the loss of the willow and basswood tree I discovered that losing these trees opened up my view of the pond and created opportunities for new things to grow. We planted a native river birch tree close to the pond and removed a perennial flower bed of shade loving flowers that was now in full sun. And then we simply watched, removed unwanted plants like thistles. And we waited.

A box elder tree began growing at the edge of the pond near the river birch tree. And while it’s known as a somewhat bothersome tree (a favorite food for box elder bugs) it is growing fast and well and filling a niche in the pond environment. Whenever I am tempted to think about having it cut down I think about how much carbon it is sequestering.

Nearby an elderberry bush popped up. I enjoy seeing it bloom mid-summer and its berries are food for the birds. Goldenrod has taken up residence near the river birch tree and it blooms in the late summer. Except for the river birch tree (which I chose because it is a native tree to Minnesota) all of this life appeared on its own.

And now blue flag irises!

Nature is truly amazing when you pay attention and stop interfering.

Trees from farther away join in: All the ways you imagine us—bewitched mangroves up on stilts, a nutmeg’s inverted spade, gnarled baja elephant trunks, the straight-up missile of a sal—are always amputations. Your kind never sees us whole. You miss the half of it and more. There’s always as much belowground as above.

That’s the trouble with people, their root problem. Life runs alongside them, unseen. Right here, right next. Creating the soil. Cycling water. Trading in nutrients. Making weather. Building atmosphere. Feeding and curing and sheltering more kinds of creatures than people know how to count.

A chorus of living wood sings to the woman: If your mind were only a slightly greener thing, we’d drown you in meaning.

The pine she leans against says: Listen. There’s something you need to hear.

— Richard Powers, The Overstory

Watch for small things that bring you joy this coming week my friends. Listen to nature and learn from her.

May you walk in beauty.

Note: Photos in today’s post from a walk in my neighborhood this week.