Hold on to the Ephemeral

Last year around this time, I found a butterfly-shaped green leaf cluster on the ground alongside the backyard creek. And then I found another nearby. The more I searched, the more I found. As it was early Spring I waited and watched for days, hoping to see what kind of flower this new find would produce. Those leaves kept getting bigger, but no flowers emerged. One cluster held a tiny pod I was sure held the ingredients for perfect petals. But nothing happened. An Internet search showed a picture of a pristine little white flower unfurling, with a caption that read, "One of the Spring Ephemerals." A couple clicks later I learned the meaning of ephemeral: short-lived; lasting only a day or so. Ah, so I had somehow missed the blooming of that mysterious plant called the Bloodroot.

My son turned three months old last week. Every week I see something new and exciting when I look into his eyes. I wonder sometimes how I can hold on to the ephemeral beauty I see before me. He is in this stage now that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he grins the most sincere grin I can imagine. I have been visiting the bathroom mirror a lot lately with him. I can't help it. I want to hold on to these moments, for I know they will pass. But of course some of them might return.

And so I returned to the creekside a little earlier this spring, before the green clustered leaves emerged. I watched for three weeks and finally last week I got my reward. The Bloodroots bloomed one cool morning and soaked up the afternoon sun. I was pleased to witness their day in the sun.

Enjoy What We Have

Last week we learned that one of our favorite local hiking trails, previously designated to be replaced by a highway bypass, is now going to be preserved as a natural area! We are relieved, perhaps selfishly, but none the less relieved.

Walking down the "Old Speedway" trails on a quiet afternoon, searching the ground for signs of early spring, is a natural tonic. Hearing nothing but the breeze through the trees or the faint laughter of exploring children is preservation of the soul. We are thankful.

The trail leads down to a bend in the Eno River beneath a large Beech tree. Here, another type of preservation is in progress. In this case, both the antagonist and victim is nature, for the Beech is a target of the beaver. Another player in this drama is the river itself, gnawing, year after year, flood after flood, at the soil and root upholding the big Beech. The humans are trying to help out here, with a wire beaver barrier wrapped around the tree trunk. It seems to be working. But the river is still doing its job. One day, I know the Beech will fall into the river and the beaver will get a nice surprise. Until then, we do what we can and enjoy what we have.

And so I think the same is true for "The Old Speedway Trails." For now, we do what we can and enjoy what we have. Remember to enjoy what we have!