From Death Springs Life

The following piece was inspired by an encounter with a partially fallen tree in our forest.

From death springs life.

We gather around a large fallen tree- half fallen actually; the top is supported by the limbs of a neighbouring one.  It is suspended at an angle; its root base lifted from the soil and exposed.  The tree is lifeless; no new growth is evident on its upper limbs.  Its greyish hue is washed out, colourless.  The tree is dead.

Or is it?

We begin to explore this tree with fervour- poking, picking, kicking, scraping, knocking- trying to scare up any sign of life.  Maybe deep down I hope that our attention will stir up some cosmic energy and would inspire this tree to suddenly re-root itself and stand tall and proud against the landscape.  Rationally I know this will not happen.  Rationally, I know the tree is dead.

Look more closely…

Moss.  Intensely green, lush and thriving around the tipped up base.  Its liveliness creates such a bold contrast against the dull, drab palette of grey-brown tones in the pre- spring forest. It is soft and moist, lush and vibrant.  It is most certainly alive. But the tree itself is dead.

Isn’t it?

We follow along the trunk with our hands, acknowledging the ridges and valleys of its intact protective layer.  It is solid and unwavering. The tree seems strong, with no visible signs of decay. It looks like it has been plucked from the ground, roots dry and dusty, exposed to the air.  It has no roots, but there is nothing left to hold the tree to the ground.  Roots unrooted.  The tree is dead.

But how can that be?

Tiny holes dot the tree’s surface landscape, hinting at potential life within.  Insects, grubs and microscopic life forms call this place home, unseen by us, but there nonetheless.  Birds and animals satiate their hunger, dining on these unsuspecting creatures, a forest feast of sorts.  Nourishment.  Life blood. But the tree is dead.

Yet life goes on.

We see this tree through the brambly chaos of the forest and it invites us in.  We touch, climb, gaze, lean in.  We quietly admire its strength; we solemnly grieve its lifelessness. On some level, we understand what this tree provides for us. 

From death springs life.

Life.

Sustenance and preservation.

Life.

Masquerading as energy, beckoning us to join the revival.

Life.

Reimagined as intrigue, inquiry, admiration.

Attention.  Awareness.  Presence.  Relation.

From death springs life.