Living Deliberately

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854

Friday, June 09, 2006

Shrub

This northern white cedar (Thuja occidentalis) has scale-like leaves that emerge from inside the previous leaf; one leaf erupting right out of the next, no discernible stem. Underneath the surface, a living tissue connects leaf to leaf and, layer after layer, it eventually builds wood. You can see the effect of the process here. An unfolding has occurred. Rumor has it that this species of tree was the first North American tree species to cross the Atlantic to Europe, to Paris to be precise, in 1536; un arbre à feuilles persistantes des colonies. This one hand-picked and planted on this fine corner of Earth finds itself too far to the south, out of its ordinary range of temperatures and light, but it presses on. They are capable of living four centuries, although I must confess my doubts to the ability of this one to do so - not where it is, not with so many forces lined up against it. The resinous tissues is highly acidic, filled with citric acid, vitamin C, a fact that saved many a sailor and malnourished colonist from scurvey. Given the latin title Arborvitae, tree of life, for its miraculous qualities. This one bears the weight of snow in winter and suffers scalding sun for half the day in summer; but persistently and ever so slowly it presses itself out into the world changing the very nature of life.

It is only a half turn from this delightful plant to the horrifying scenes of bloodthirsty revenge. We murder and call it justice, then we taunt the world by hanging the dead corpse from every television, newspaper, and web page to be found. The self-assured Secretary used the word "medieval" as he bragged about his "hunt and kill" (as if 500 pound bombs have anything to do with hunting) and in those squinting lying manipulating eyes of his I see he knew he meant himself. He has done the math, though, we cannot catch him before his earthly time is up. Hard to picture, despicable. And the shame piles up, leaf emerging from leaf, solidifying into wood, until we have built a structure out of our very failings. Despair.

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