Sunday reflection: life finds a way
I was in my garden today doing a spring tidy-up when I noticed the bright green foliage on a fir tree which proclaimed that, although I cannot see how it can possibly still be alive, the tree obviously is.
Something - most likely my daughter's pet rabbits as the only other animal in Cumbria which could have done that is a deer, and it's unlikely any deer could have got into the garden - had a really good go at the lower trunk of that tree last year, stripping off a lot of bark and doing enough damage to weaken the base of the fir tree and make it keel over. I propped it back up by tying the upper part of the tree to the adjacent fence and IIRC took appropriate measures to contain the loss of sap but didn't expect the tree to survive.
Well, it has, and has managed to repair it's base sufficiently to still be upright although the cords I used to tie it in that position have long since gone - and even though the lower trunk and root system must be under a considerable turning moment trying to topple it, because the lowest part of the trunk is almost horizontal before bending back close to the vertical by the time it reaches a foot above the ground.
I know the colour of dead foliage on a fir tree. Sometimes trees die a little bit at a time and you will see a dying tree parts of which are the dull brown of death while other parts are still green. This tree is not like that, it has the bright green which you see mostly in spring, and only on trees which are very much alive.
In a way the determined struggle of that tree to repair it's injuries and survive is a metaphor for life itself, which in so many creatures often manages to cling on against the most terrible challenges when the odds are stacked against it.
Something - most likely my daughter's pet rabbits as the only other animal in Cumbria which could have done that is a deer, and it's unlikely any deer could have got into the garden - had a really good go at the lower trunk of that tree last year, stripping off a lot of bark and doing enough damage to weaken the base of the fir tree and make it keel over. I propped it back up by tying the upper part of the tree to the adjacent fence and IIRC took appropriate measures to contain the loss of sap but didn't expect the tree to survive.
Well, it has, and has managed to repair it's base sufficiently to still be upright although the cords I used to tie it in that position have long since gone - and even though the lower trunk and root system must be under a considerable turning moment trying to topple it, because the lowest part of the trunk is almost horizontal before bending back close to the vertical by the time it reaches a foot above the ground.
I know the colour of dead foliage on a fir tree. Sometimes trees die a little bit at a time and you will see a dying tree parts of which are the dull brown of death while other parts are still green. This tree is not like that, it has the bright green which you see mostly in spring, and only on trees which are very much alive.
In a way the determined struggle of that tree to repair it's injuries and survive is a metaphor for life itself, which in so many creatures often manages to cling on against the most terrible challenges when the odds are stacked against it.
The living creatures which we call human beings have that ability in spades. And although we will lose some of our friends, neighbours and loved ones, and we will regret every one of those deaths, human society we will come through the Coronavirus pandemic just as the tree in my garden recovered from the attack of the killer bunnies.
And as they saying goes, we will find that whatever does not kill us makes us stronger.
Comments
In case someone does a Joe Biden on me, I acknowledge that the line "Life finds a way" is a reference to a quote from the first Jurassic Park film.
And "Whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger" is a translation of a quote from a quote attributed to the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche.