It is now reported that approximate half the world in living in some form of mandatory isolation or lockdown. The dispatches from the U.S. are frightening: New York is overwhelmed, and California braces for a tidal wave. The global death toll has surpassed 40,000.
British Columbia is not on lockdown (yet), although physical distancing and isolation has been in place for more than two weeks. I remain inside for most of each day. The hours are spent marking, reading and writing – the usual motions of a graduate student. In the afternoon, I spend a precious hour walking Miles, my 7-year old Australian Shepherd. It’s a relief to be outdoors, breathing the zesty spring air, gazing into a protean sky strewn with cumulous clouds.
David Whyte once said that we have many allies — even the blueness of the sky conveys a beneficence and solidarity that can sooth our anxieties. Cloistered in our quarters, connection and communion become all the more vital. Of course, the online platforms are already populated and bursting with chatter. Zoom, BlueJeans, Skype and Facetime have never been busier. I propose another option for connection: intimacy with multiple forms of life. On my daily walks, I carry a trusty little field guide. I use PlantSnap on my phone to identify shrubs, ferns, and wildflowers. I have gotten to know some notable specimens in my neighborhood, and I make a point to visit these friends often. In this entry, I introduce you to some of my neighbors, and offer a few words for each personality.
Skimmia (Skimmia Japonica)
Now is the time to awaken. Spring forth now, with lavish fragrance of sweet honey and wild berry. Grace the morning with clusters of white, your sacramental robes of jubilation. Fill the temple of Spring with intoxicating scent, drifting, dancing, with delirious ecstasy.
Sakura. Impermanent and eternal
Japanese Cherry (Prunus Serrulata)
Tufts of snow now gather on these quivering branches. Winter’s parting gift to coming Spring. The avatar of impermanence, the object of poets’ reveries. Alas, they are impervious to sentiment. Content to bloom, content to fall, they whisper this sacred promise: an eternity of departure and return.
Giant Sequoia (Sequoiadendron Giganteum):
Stand tall and firm. Resolution has no better candidate. This audacious bark, ruddy and bold, reaches toward unseen heights. The scaly leaves like tassels against my cap. Its shape, a spear that skewers the clouds — you are the soil outstretched, you are the earth dreaming of sky
Pussy Willow (Salix discolor):
No need to hide your envy of fur and wool. These billowy bunches must also slide into wind. Let the anther drift, let the filaments sway. Spring will not settle until she feels your hair-like touch.
I return to my apartment, satisfied by this botanical companionship. Physical isolation also provides an opportunity to discover a different kind of society. There are many more days of containment ahead, but with the company of so much flora, aloneness need not be a hardship.