Thursday, February 18, 2010
(Photo Credit: Moose, 2/18/10)
And sometimes nature cleaves a poor little sapling right in twain, doesn't it, Ms. Dickinson?
It's a small thing, when you consider the scale of damages wrought by the Blizzard(s) of 2010 in the Washington area, but, still, there is mourning in Roxie's World for the sweet Japanese maple that was planted just a couple of years ago out by the pond in the ridiculously large backyard. The moms doted on that pretty, slow-growing tree and looked forward to watching it quietly assert itself in front of the crepe myrtles that anchor that part of the garden. It's hard to imagine that a young tree can survive such a deep wound, despite what Dickinson says, in the poem quoted above, about a plant's capacity to recover from the searings and scalpings of nature. "Her Green People recollect it," Dickinson writes, the "it" referring presumably to the assault upon the plant, "When they do not die -- ." Spring will come again and with it new growth. Even if an individual tree dies, its remains will eventually crumble into the ground, enrich the soil, and nurture the growth of other plants.
That is a thought worth keeping in mind, perhaps, as the long, slow process of melting gets underway and we wait impatiently in the cold to feel the warm, green ground beneath our feet again.
Peace out, my darling Green People. May all that is damaged in your world sprout into something beautiful.
Postscript for the Literal: Need some advice on how to care for plants damaged by the storm? Click here.