Consequences

It is easy to forget to notice. And so was the damselfly that glinted in the sun’s persistent illumination which I would have missed if I hadn’t lifted my head to brush my wavy silvering hair out of my face so I could see the alder bush branches more clearly. Without planning to, I found myself deeply buried in my task of working with my pruning clippers, cutting back the alder branches that were crowding out the spindly new growth of the powerful and whimsical cedar tree, with is fan-like branches that wave the rain drops away, thus protecting the vulnerable soil below. How is it that the tiny cedar tree seed, in the unassuming pinecone, pushed forth and dropped into the precarious soil, years ago, and through grit and determination, sent forth root and sprout? Despite the competition of the alder, wild rose, wild ginger and sarsaparilla, that seed found a way to stay on the ever shifting hillside and now the struggling cedar tree gasped for air and sunlight in the over protective forest of thick alder branches.

Or maybe it survived because of the protection given by the thick undergrowth which provided this vertically inclined hillside, a braided mass of root networks, which was protection from the rain and merciless winter storms that beat against these rocky ledges and tore at the tiny plants that clung stubbornly to the mixture of rock and clay and sand.

Because that is how it works. We need each other to survive. Everything leans a little bit on something else in an attempt to grow and thrive. Rare it is to find a lone tree, standing naked and exposed in a barren landscape all by itself. More common in the world of nature is the discovery of the interconnectedness of species and varieties and an aspen grove-like root structure of interdependence and cooperation.

I was assisting the cedar tree, or so I hoped, but I wondered about my human intervention and questioned whether it was actually interference in the natural balance of all things.

Brushing back my wild and disobedient hair with a muddy work glove, I paused. The damselfly rested briefly on the leaf of an alder branch that I was intending to boldly trim off the bush. Her iridescent wings, complex and made of fragile stain glass-like red and gold membranes, lay against her body until she was ready to fly. And I paused to notice. Immediately I was filled with wonder and gratitude. Shifting from work mode, only seeing alder branches as something in the way of the cedar tree, into appreciation for the rest and stable landing pad offered by this tenacious alder bush I was in awe of the interconnectedness and interdependence of the world we inhabit. If we trim off a branch we are making a choice and choices have consequences. To become completely whole and integrated, we need to imagine our roots sharing the same soil and our arms and hands sometimes offering shelter and other times restricting growth. And we need to develop a keen awareness of the consequences of our choices.

I had done enough trimming for one day. I paused a few more minutes to watch the damselfly before she took to flight. I looked at the alder bush in its altered form now and gave a silent blessing to the now more exposed cedar tree. I noticed my feet on the solid rocky ledge surrounded by wild roses reaching for the sun. I felt part of it all and for that I was extremely grateful.