A Message of Hope for the New Year in Challenging Times
The Lifeblood of the Forest, The Tenacity of Virginia Creeper
Many of my recent posts have been about the devastation we experienced in Western North Carolina following Helene and the challenges we continue to face. However, I believe what we have been going through here has many valuable lessons to bring into the New Year and also offers a foundation for hope. Just as the rain and winds wrecked havoc on existing natural biomes, the winds of change are upon our human societal structures as well and chaos is on the horizon. Climate change too, appears to be worsening at an accelerating rate and altering our waterways and landscapes to the point of being unrecognisable. It often feels like Kali, the Hindu goddess of darkness, destruction, and death, is having a heyday tearing our world apart. Yet Kali also symbolises Mother Nature and is integral to the creation of new life. I believe strongly in nature’s powers of resurgence and regeneration, although it is a misguided romantic notion that we can ever return to some past golden age when forests, prairies, and waterways were pristine and thriving. Still, that does not mean that life affirming manifestations of creation will cease. From all my years of studying biodiversity and nature, I know that most if not all lifeforms possess an instinctual desire to live and flourish in good health. This seemed so apparent to me when I came upon this section of Virginia Creeper in the Hickory Nut Gorge, not far from where Bat Cave and Chimney Rock were totally destroyed. This beautiful plant is able to survive in hostile conditions and symbolizes tenacity and the potential for growth and adaptation by humans as well as plant life. If this were not enough, Virginia Creeper is excellent at erosion control and also provides habit for songbirds, insects, and all manner of wildlife. Its red color made me feel it was the lifeblood of this patch of forest after the storm, and I celebrated how life was continuing here in a humble and beautiful manner.
Witch Hazel, Moss, Lichen, and Pine Needles, the Healing Power of Nature
Native Americans combined witch hazel with pine needles and spicebush in order to ward off fevers. It was also thought to be good for treating colds, tuberculosis, muscle pains, and scratches, among other medicinal usages. (https://www.adkinsarboretum.org/programs_events/ipp/witch-hazel.html#:~:text=Indigenous%20Uses,bathe%20sores%20and%20skinned%20places.) Witch hazel also has many symbolic meanings and throughout history it has been thought to protect against evil spirits and negative energies, as well as possessing the ability to heal broken hearts. In Ireland it was known as the Tree of Knowledge. There is so much wisdom in the natural world and we too can access its healing powers by using plants for their medicinal properties or by observing how lifeforms often work together for their common good and to heal the biome they exist in. The yellow color of the witch hazel flower signifies optimism, as does the fact that it blooms in winter, from January to March, before the leaves come out. I made this image along the Turkey Pen Trail, which runs along Mills River near Brevard. There was a lot of destruction, which I will save for another post, but I was happy to see that in this same area this tree and its flowers, as well as moss and lichen still held their own and flourished. I felt these lifeforms were telling me that we don’t have to give up, even when things seem to be falling apart and chaos is in close proximity.
Entangled and Growing in Challenging Conditions
The image above was made along the Strawberry Gap Trail in the Hickory Nut Gorge in the middle section of the trail that was closed until recently. Storms had eroded the soil and exposed roots that were previously under a layer of earth. This was likely from an earlier weather event, since moss was covering many roots. I always take heart when I see trees growing and surviving in challenging conditions, and how their very existence causes more life forms to attach to them and proliferate. It makes me feel that if I maintain a modicum of hope and keep making work demonstrating nature’s resilience, other people might take solace from what they see and continue their own practices, whatever they might be, that help them thrive and contribute to the common good. It is easy for me and others who care about the natural world to feel depressed right now, since science is frequently denigrated and the existence of problems we see with our own eyes are considered unreal and their causes a hoax. Yet nature shows us that we must keep trying, even when we are not sure our ideas and observations will be heeded or accepted.
Co-existence in a Precarious World
Life in its natural state is entangled, richly layered, and multifaceted. Sadly, there is no place on Earth that is not experiencing the effects of the Anthropocene. Still, the Appalachian Mountains have over 150 species of trees and more species of plants than any similarly sized area in North America. Though Helene caused a lot of destruction to the flora and fauna of our region, I believe an area with this much biodiversity will rebound much faster than if so many different lifeforms did not exist here and the soil wasn’t so rich with fungi and the DNA of all the trees in our forests–including those that fell during Helene. All this entanglement often appears chaotic on the surface, but I know these lifeforms frequently work together through a web of interconnections both above and below ground. We often can’t see everyone on the ground working in communities or even individually to help form healthier ways of surviving in our precarious world, but when disaster strikes people’s ability to put aside abstract beliefs and prejudices in order to come together and help one another becomes visible.
Christmas Tree Ferns Welcoming Winter After the Floods
Christmas Tree Ferns are another symbol of endurance and resilience, since they not only survive but thrive in winter. They provide shelter for wildlife, help with erosion control, and contribute to better air quality. These ferns are also used by indigenous people to reduce fevers, stem bleeding, and reduce inflammation, among other uses. They always fill me with hope when I see them in the winter, since their rich greens add color to the otherwise drab landscape. In Medieval times, the seeds of ferns were thought to possess the power to make people invisible or able to predict the future. They believed the seeds and flowers were invisible and so were thought to be able to confer invisibility upon those who saw them. The invisible flowers were thought to appear around the summer solstice, and if you were lucky enough to see one you received the gift of fairy vision. (Ferns actually reproduce by microscopic spores, but there were no microscopes then so this was not known.) This and the fact that ferns are evergreens and come back every season were why Medieval people believed they could help people predict the future (https://www.blueridgebotanic.com/blog/ferns). How many of us wish that we could see into the future right now, so we could know if the environmental damage we are causing will at least be partially remediated or what will happen next to our political systems which may be at their end stages. Still, in the midst of a dormant season, these Christmas Tree Ferns are not hiding their uplifting beauty and we need to keep shining our own inner light just as brightly.
Hope in the Forest, Trombatore Trail
The image above shows more vibrant Christmas Tree Ferns alongside rocks covered with rich green mosses. Moss also symbolizes renewal and resilience, as well as the interconnection of all living things. In Japan, it is considered to be a symbol of harmony, age, and tradition, and Zen monks consider it to be a central feature of gardens and have written about it in their descriptions of temple landscapes for over 1,000 years. (https://www.gardendesign.com/japanese/moss.html#:~:text=In%20Japan%2C%20moss%20is%20regarded,written%20descriptions%20of%20temple%20landscapes.) It is also a symbol of humility, simplicity, and refinement. When my husband and I came upon this beautiful area in the Bearwallow Gap, we were overcome by the life-affirming aspects of the landscape. There were many downed branches and even some downed trees nearby, but the organic matter that had fallen was from above. When we looked at the ground, there was still so much life to celebrate and it gave us some hope for the future–even as the weather continues to through curveballs everywhere. It was also a reminder that life emerges from the ground up.
Layers of Life Co-existing on Tree Bark
It always impresses me how the colors of life are so varied and exquisitely rich. Algae and bacteria are building blocks of life, as well as destroyers. Many areas in the Blue Ridge Mountains are a temperate rain forest and with climate change we have been experiencing even more rain. All this moisture make moss, lichens, and bacterias proliferate on tree bark. It is amazing to witness how much life is in each square inch. The exponential growth of the human population has caused people to become frightened that their won’t be enough resources and instead of working together to figure out how to solve allocation problems, some hoard resources, want to exclude other people from access, and become selfish. Nature, on the other hand, appears to be much better at working together, and biomes become more beautiful and successful as the diversity they manifest increases.
Breaking Down Boundaries in the Patchwork of Life
Sometimes destruction is also beneficial for the common good. I made this image of the surface of a downed tree on the Strawberry Gap Trail a few months after Helene hit. There were already lots of fungi and bacteria breaking it down, gradually changing its wood to a dust filled with nutrients that will be returned to the soil. The lifeforms breaking down the log are playing simultaneously destructive and constructive roles. Sometimes old ways must cease before new paradigms can emerge, just as at the end of each year we say good-bye to what didn’t serve us and ready ourselves to move forward in a more positive direction.
Resurgence-New Life Springs Forth From the Last Remnants of an Old Tree Stump
Just yesterday, I was walking with my husband and our dogs on a dirt road near our home. The earth was soaked from the last bout of flooding rain we experienced, which turned the soil a dark, rich color. The blackish depression in the center of the image is of the last remnants of an old tree stump. Leaving them in the ground to decompose allows the trees to release their nutrients and DNA into the earth. It was encouraging to see all the plants growing around the ghost of this tree, even in winter. A past version of myself might have walked by without paying this humble patch of land any attention, especially since across the road there was a tangle of downed trees and trash on the banks of the creek. I might have considered the whole area to be desolate and hurried past to the trail we enjoy hiking. But I have learned to look for signs of life’s perseverance everywhere–especially in hostile conditions. I look upon endurance and resurgence as something to be celebrated, since survival takes courage and fortitude in these times.
Impermanence–What Has Fallen Will Get Washed Away
Rocks have tumbled and trees and leaves have fallen. Old structures are crumbling and stories that do not serve us are being unwritten, even as untruths multiply. Bridges collapsed and stepping stones were covered by water. We mourn but we carry on and there is beauty in the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other. If we are observant enough, we are gifted with the awareness that there are two sides to change. Impermanence is real and we can’t grasp too hard for what was, but at the same time we are graced with the inevitability of change that the future brings. New ways of being and forging new connections always remain possibilities. If what comes into being at first is not what we desire and even frightens us, we can take heart that this will not last either and something else will rise from the ashes. Sometimes we are swept along and sometimes we find a safe haven for a moment, clinging together as we do our best to hold on for as long as it is feasible and we are able to maintain quality of life.
The Inseparability of Life and Death
Life and death are inseparable. One cannot exist without the other and as so often has been noted, death makes us appreciate life as the gift that it is. Rather than running from death’s inevitability, we would do better to act compassionately towards those people and lifeforms that need our help–especially those nearing the end of their lives. Being of service to others and the environment is sacred work, and it is also a bit selfish since it imbues our lives with more meaning. Trebbe Johnson has said we should not turn away from destroyed places and she is right, especially since there are so few places left that we have not harmed in some way. But there is a deeper reason, which I’m sure she would agree with. When we look closely, even in places that have experienced profound devastation, we can discover signs of life coming back against all odds by finding ways to adapt. Humans are drawn to underdog stories since they give us hope for the outcome of our own trajectories until our final hours. My resolution for myself is to walk slowly, look closely, and notice how nature finds ways to circumvent the obstacles we have put in its way. My prayer is that these observations will help keep the light within me burning.
Mist on Mills River
The future is often enshrouded in mist, and turns may block us from seeing downstream very far. There may even be turbulence along the way, or snags we don’t anticipate, but this too shall pass. Though we often think of this as a trite saying, it was actually coined by sufis in Persia in the 13th century and was also used by Abraham Lincoln in a speech before he became president and civil war erupted. As my British mother used to tell me, we must Keep Calm and Carry On. That adage was one of three messages created by the British Ministry of Information’s wartime propaganda department. It was written on a motivational poster in 1939 to boost morale in case England was invaded during World War II, but the invasion never happened and most of the original posters were pulped due to a paper shortage. (https://www.london.ac.uk/about/history/history-senate-house/story-behind-keep-calm-carry) Ten years later, George Orwell made the saying famous in 1984 through his Ministry of Truth. These days both of these sayings seem more appropriate than ever and they don’t seem nearly so trite when you consider their origins and what we are facing now. Another personal goal for the New Year is not to get swept into the hysteria, and to keep aware without falling into despair. I believe I can achieve this by continuing to seek community with those who believe in collaboration to solve our problems and are willing to follow the lessons nature so graciously teaches us. My wish for all of you is that you find you own way forward and the support and inspiration to do so in the most positive ways possible. Remember, not only is there always light in the darkness no matter how small the flame is, darkness is also the ground from which new possibilities arise.