Opposites and the Circle of Life
Horse Chestnut Buds and a Fossil
Another sunny, chilly December day. It is noon and I am drawn to the edge of the hill overlooking my driveway. Placing my cushion on a mossy patch under the snowball bush, I relish the thin bit of warmth from the sun. It is the young horse chestnut tree that beckons me today.
I love horse chestnut trees and though this one has yet to flower (does it need a companion?) I am very grateful for its presence on the land. However, it saddens me that two metal stakes are buried deep in the earth near its trunk. Though I understand the need to stabilize it in its initial years, I cannot pull the stakes out now. Perhaps the roots have grown around them.
It is such a harsh juxtaposition – the rigid metal stakes so near the delicate trunk. Circling the tree several times with my gloved hands on its trunk, I ground myself deep into the land. Looking up, I see the tree’s reddish buds. It shocks me that these delicate buds can defy the coming winter weather. Wandering over to the magnolia tree which has been ravaged with scale for the past two years, I’m delighted to see hundreds of tiny furred buds. We will have gorgeous pink blossoms in the spring!
I’m aware I’m dealing with opposites – cold breeze and warm sun, rigid metal and swelling tree, moist bud and bare branch. Promises of new life and the ever-present awareness of death.
The first Covid vaccines will arrive in Canada next week. The doctors are jubilant while the federal government claims a cautious victory. The promise of life with the vaccine? The threat of death with the virus? I’m not sure it’s so simple.
As I settle back into my nest, I see a circular fossil on the grey stone nearby — a reminder of the circle of Life – not an either/or but an image of wholeness.
While I would like to pull out the metal and fervently squish the invading scale, the ancient fossil rests nearby, a quiet reminder of the circle of Life.
I am cold and I am warm. I am calm and I am anxious. The short view demands resolution while the stone reveals the long view: Now. Here. All. One.
