Morphology

One could call it genius. This understory oak shrub (is it black or scarlet? Quercus unsertanus) whose leaf profile is lost to the plant's own need to capture as much sunlight as is oakenly possible. A wide net, they say. This morphological tendency is most pronounced in the oak. It seemingly goes against reason, does it not? If there is less of something to have, most organisms respond by shrinking their needs, whether by force or by choice. This oak here across the right-of-way, nestled in the little patch of untrammeled ground between the road surface and the neighbors' yard, has decided it won't abide by those principles. As if principles alone ruled the world, it seems to me to say. If so, no doubt, this oak would have long ago died. But principles, it seems, are difficult to stick to something so lively as the wild. Principles of conservation are vital in a state of scarcity. But sunlight is abundant beyond imagination, even in the understory. Given the freedom, life expresses life. Circumstances change and life changes with them, somehow. This is not to justify unwarranted destruction or intentional rampage. It is to recenter the critique.

Stories of continued carnage lead the headlines every day. Worse than Vietnam in it that it is now today this minute. And worse in that it has somehow muted what used to be a well-developed sense of decency. May we be like oaks in the understory, our indistinguishable leaves powering a healthy set of roots, awaiting the toppling of the dying maple overhead. These days will end. We can be sure.