Friday, October 18, 2013

Trees, Time, and Passing By

Trees rarely make the front page.  That did happen, however, in 2004 when Wangari Maathai won the Nobel Peace Prize for her Green Belt Movement begun in Kenya.  Knowing a bit about ecology, I was not surprised to hear about the physical side effects that resulted from that movement's planting trees, such as cleaner streams due to reduced soil erosion.  What intrigued me more were the intangible benefits those trees brought.  For example, friendships between Kenyan women developed because, as they made their daily trips in the hot sun carrying water, they stopped to converse in the shade of trees.

As I have reflected about trees in general, I've concluded that the most enduring intangible benefits trees bring derive from the way they serve as tabernacles of time.  Many species of trees can have life spans longer than ours can ever reach.  Trees, therefore, help families and communities hold onto life-giving memories from generation to generation.  That role trees can serve is made explicit in these lines from the early 20th-century poet Stephen Vincent Benet as he describes Richmond, Virginia:
"The trees in the streets are old trees used to living with people,
Family trees that remember your grandfather's name."

In Sequoia Natl. Park in California, I stretched my neck far back to look up at a tree that was young and growing long before Jesus was born.  Such pine trees and sequoias help us transcend our normal sense of time.  We usually think of time in terms of human generations, but that is subjective and human-centered. The 20th-century American Buddhist poet Gary Snyder speaks to the relativity of time scales in this way:
"As the crickets' soft autumn hum
is to us,
so are we to the trees
as are they
to the rocks and the hills."

Compared to many long-living species of trees, we humans are just passing by.  We are to them passers-by in time, similar to the way we pass by a tree beside the sidewalk or walking path. In countries where people do not get virtually all their food from the grocery story, people can also be more aware of the other, tangible benefits those trees provide.  The Hindu Upadesa Tarangini brings together those tangible benefits with trees' intangible reminder that we are passers-by in the following benediction placed upon a tree:

"Oh tree!  You are standing on the path.  Live for a long time and be happy, because with your blossoms the cuckoo is happy, and with your pollen the bumblebees are happy, and passers by are happy with your fruits.  So live long!"

~~~

Is there any tree in particular that you remember? What is your memory of it?


(The Snyder poem is taken from
Buddhism and Ecology, ed. Mary Evelyn Tucker, et al., © 1997.)
(The Hindu blessing is taken from Hinduism and Ecology,
 by Ranchor Prime, © 1992.)

Friday, October 4, 2013

“Talk to the Animals” ?

Despite the peculiar style of drawings in the Doctor Dolittle books, and oddities in their plots, there is one thread throughout the series of books that remains appealing:  Namely, the notion of talking to the animals. The 1967 movie version starring Rex Harrison also left us with the catchy song-version of the idea, simply titled "Talk to the Animals."  Most people who have sung that song probably do not realize that the concept has ancient roots.

For example, based on statements in the Old Testament that King Solomon knew much about Nature (I Kings 4:33), a legend developed that Solomon could also talk to animals.  As retold poetically by Rudyard Kipling a century ago:  "There was never a King like Solomon, / Not since the world began; / But Solomon talked to a butterfly / As a man would talk to a man."

Christian art contains countless depictions of St. Francis of Assisi preaching to the birds.  St. Francis's gentleness, however, is also portrayed through the other side of the coin:  Namely, that he was also adept at listening to animals.  In one story, Francis is asked by the people in the town of Gubbio to help them deal with a wolf that has been harassing them.  After going into the woods to converse with the wolf, Francis returns with a message:  The wolf has agreed to leave you alone -- but only if you feed it!

Those two St. Francis stories -- his preaching to the birds and his listening to the Gubbio wolf -- raise a question:  Which do we value more, talking or listening?  Within our human societies, we often elevate people who we remember as being great leaders by quoting things they have said.  In contrast, in conversation between friends, we appreciate someone who is a good listener. Speaking and listening can be complementary within human societies.  However, it strikes me that our relationship with the non-human realm we call "Nature" is different.  Animals cannot understand our talk the way a human can.  We have better chances of accomplishing something if we listen to Nature.

Since the rise of the modern technology, there have been new means of listening to things in Nature.  The recorded calls of humpback whales are now recognizable to people who have never seen a whale.  There are numerous relaxation CD's available with bird songs interwoven with gentle music.  Usually, though, such CD's are used as background music.  I know myself how relaxing they can be.  But a more challenging task than relaxing is stopping what I am doing and listening to Nature itself for awhile.

Beneath all this matter of talking and listening lies an unspoken desire for communion with the non-human realm.  The native American Luther Standing Bear said that "so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.”  A "common" tongue -- similar to the verb "to commune"!  Not an easy thing. And yet, not impossible.

~~

Does the idea of "listening" to Nature suggest something to you?  If so, what?


(The Kipling  quote is from the Just So Stories, 
by Rudyard Kipling, published in 1902.)
(The Doctor Dolittle movie poster is by Tom Chantrell, and is used through Fair Use.)