Near the end of June with little to no rain. Weather people on the T.V. call this a mild drought. Mild? Meaning corn ankle high, maybe by the 4th of July? Maybe? I go for a walk with Julie a friend over to the conservancy. We park on Big Bluestem Parkway cross a patch of blue grass now turned brown. The only color in the mown area by wild Morning Glories and yellow Birds-foot Trefoil .
Morning Glories
Dry Grass & Birds-foot Trefoil
Blue grass exists with very shallow roots. We cross the brown blue grass and paved walking path to a narrow earth path that enters the prairie. Here a different story. Cup Plants and Grasses rise from the earth head high in a mosaic of green; a rich diversity of plants with deep roots, resistant to drought and fire. Here a different ecosystem in dramatic ways. The blue grass appears dead or nearly so due to a lack of water. The prairie plants thick and thriving due to deep roots. Some in bloom.
Trail into the Prairie
We take some pictures. Julie asks me to name certain plants. I must admit ignorance on many, even misidentify a tall grass at the start as Big Blue Stem. The trail leads to the pines and down to the Camus bench. Where I take her picture. Then onto the woods and spring where I get Julie's picture with the large cottonwood. Julie spots a Mulberry tree, grabs a branch, harvests some black ones to share. She opens her hand. I take a few, toss them in my mouth. Natural sweetness floods my taste buds.
Later I look up names of some of the plants we observed. Purple Prairie Clover, White Prairie Clover, and Wild White Indigo. Most of the grasses I don't know.
Contemplating my ignorance I go back over the next day to pay more attention to the grasses. I confess to being attracted to brightly colored flowers hardly paying attention to the grasses even though they tend to dominate. The rich variety of the grasses astounds me even if their names escape me. I take pictures of their seed heads and stalks. Some grasses are small with a spray of tiny seeds that seemed more like a mist. One grass has such a thin stem it seems impossible that it stands at all. I lean over touch the stem that feels wire like. I know I can not get a picture that will truly represent the plant. Most of the grasses are robust with rich seed heads blowing back and forth in the breeze. I go back in time, lose myself imagining that I walk through the prairie as a hunter/gatherer picking seed heads, eating them as I look for bison belly deep in the prairie grasses. Sometimes its best to forget time, to just be in the moment. The following experience happened early in the month of June at the conservancy.
A breeze caresses my neck, swirls gently around my ears. In the white cedars pure peace. Quiet... that nourishes soul. Where cedars end bright green light on leaves of deciduous trees. In the pines a slight breeze cools my neck as above air pulses and ebbs to move limbs back and forth. Reflected on the forest floor, the mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. I watch, simply watch and think: Thank You for this day and all that is. Amen
Ignorance can be beneficial. I read a snippet not long ago, exact book escapes my memory of a biologist in Laos or South Vietnam. A local villager guided him who knew the names of all the plants. The biologist complemented him on his knowledge. His guide turned to him with a wistful look then said, "I know their names, but not their song."
While contemplating this shared walk with Julie and my ignorance I began to associate spiritual practice with the prairie plants. Spiritual practice nourishes us, helps us send our roots deep into the ground of all being. Increases our resilience to the droughts and fires associated with life. Deepens our connection with that mysterious creative energy source that flows through all things. The source of our being. The source of all. That which brought us into this life and that which will escort us on to what comes next when our time comes to drop this mortal coil.
Julie Smiles with the Cottonwood Tree
I put together a video in an attempt to share this experience of observing the difference between the Blue Grass and the resilient prairie, and in an attempt to capture some of the richness in that diversity. A section includes the interplay of light and shadow in the pines.
Thanks Julie for joining me on a walk, Thanks for all the rest of you for joining me on this blog and journey through life. May you deepen your serenity while viewing the video.
Ps: Some have mentioned having trouble opening the link to the video. You may be Mac users. I can send a link from Gmail which has helped some to open it. Or you can go to You Tube and seek Anthony Hendricks. Note I am not the black preacher who has the same name. Now back to finishing the video.
Path to the Pines & Spring Beyond Life's a journey. Many short walks after our first few tentative steps. Now that Winter has set in with snow and cold verdant summer and fall's transition becomes a distant memory. My walks frequently take me through the Prairie into the Pines through the Woods and down to the Spring. Walking is controlled falling. One foot pushes our weight forward while the opposite leg swings the next foot forward to arrest our fall as the weight is transferred to that foot. Then repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat, on and on and on. A fall happens when one foot catches on something or slips along the way. We trip. Frequently we trip at the start of life while learning and toward the end as our footsteps become faltering and unsteady. Those early trips a learning experience. We get up bandage knees and move on. Trips late in life can be our final downfall. A potential tragedy. W...
You Are Invited! Live Poetry & Music At the Wil-Mar Center The Wild Hog in the Woods Coffee Shop Friday November 8, 7:30 to 9:30 pm 504 S. Brearly St. Madison, Wi 53703 Friends Romans and Country persons ... I've not come to bury Caesar for he died long before my time. Although my name is Anthony I had nothing to do with that event. Instead have been invited to read some of my poetry by Dave Schindele, a fine musician and friend. I will be reading an excerpt from a collection of poetry I recently submitted t o a contest for possible publication. The title of the collection is Black Ink On White Paper . Below is the title poem and a bit of a long poem titled Song of the Frivolous Man. For all of you who are local and can make it I would love to see there. Black Ink On White Paper Black ink On White paper, Words Upon a Page; Out of Diapers, I toddle Across The floor, Open The door ...
Thanks Tony!
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