When trees are gone, what remains?

Kathy's garden on the first day of real snow on the mountains (10.4.14, Anchorage, AK)
Kathy’s garden on the first day of real snow on the mountains (10.4.14, Anchorage, AK)

This is an enigmatic kind of question that could inspire much reflection. I have my own avenue of reflection on it.

This morning, during my nature meditation, the second thing I noticed, after the cool, damp breeze on my skin, was how green Kathy’s garden looked in contrast with the golden birch leaves around it. Then I noticed a string attached to the metal bird on top of the bird bath, and running down the side of the bird bath; I had not noticed it before.

Curious, I walked over to the the garden and discovered that the string was holding up a small sweet pea plant with a single sweet pea hanging from it. It touched my heart that Anda had planted the pea and other plants in Kathy’s garden with loving attention. I felt a touch of sadness that it had taken this long for me to notice it.

I ate the pea and savored its sweetness, not just with my physical sense of taste, but from the appreciation I felt in my heart. I also took note of the kale and chard she had planted there and thought that it’s high time to eat these. The snow has come to the mountains.

I reflected upon what I know of this spot. When we moved into the house in the early nineties, the stone circle was there. It was around the stump of a fallen birch tree. On the stump had been a small windmill that the previous owners took with them. Brian removed the stump and we allowed the plants that were already in the circle to continue to grow.

After my sister Kathy died in 2001, my mom sent me a white cherub statue for what had become “Kathy’s garden.” We had planted some annuals in it and also put in the bird bath. Kathy loved birds.

The years went by. Each year we planted new annuals and left the perennials in the garden. Some years we didn’t do a whole lot. When Anda moved in last summer, she had the strong intention to make our lawn into a garden. She began to plant edibles in Kathy’s garden along with the flowers. Her intention was that we would experience joy and love as we ate from her garden. I did just that when I ate the single pea.

All of the attention, love, and care that went into this spot began with the birch tree that lived and died there. I reflect on this and on how the Spirit of the Forest is still here. Even the spot where one of its trees stood carries energy that attracts loving attention.

My drawing below is part of my experience of perceiving the Spirit of the Forest. Kathy’s garden lies between this spot and the picture window of the house, through which I can see the whole area.

"Afternoon meets night but the birches are white."
“Afternoon meets night but the birches are white.” (by Pamela Ann McDowell Saylor)

 

 

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