Finding Our Way

The original Jurassic Park movie contains the line “Life finds a way.”  I utter those words to myself repeatedly when I’m working or hunting in the woods and fields that I call home, though I tend to tweak it a bit by muttering, “Nature finds a way.”

Have you ever observed how desperately nature wants to survive?  Consider plants; I never stop being impressed by the will, patience, and ingenuity plants use to maintain their life cycle.  A large area of aspen forest on the northern border of our property was clear-cut by loggers last summer.  Lush, shaded land became scalded and barren…until this spring.  The area that used to be popple trees, hazelbrush, and ferns now grows wild roses, raspberries, timothy grass, and clover, to name the few plants I recognize.  None of those plants used to grow there - so where did they come from?  My best guess is the seeds were there, patiently waiting for an opportunity to grab some sunlight and space.  But for how long, and how did the seeds arrive in the first place?  The mysteries of nature.

What isn’t a mystery is the new-growth aspen that already dominates the flattened landscape.  Aspen trees are one of the largest organisms on Earth because of their massive interconnected root systems.  It’s nearly impossible to kill a popple tree; cut one down, dozens of new trees sprout up from the original’s roots.  Fascinating, but also irritating, as our cleared trails through that forest immediately became choked with young trees this spring, popping up from the hidden roots we’d been driving over for years.

Aspen are not the only survivors in the tree family.  We planted hundreds of oak trees on our property about ten years ago.  For several years they all looked dead...until suddenly they began leafing out…at which point the deer found out how delicious they are.  Year after year the oaks push up new growth only to have the deer chew it off.  The other day I noticed a small oak leaf peeking up through masses of birds-foot trefoil; an oak that had been eaten off to the ground was pushing up a whole new sprout.  I put a tree cage around it and tipped my cap to it’s stick-to-it-iveness.

Our pine plantations contain trees that have been pushed over by wind; rather than die the tree simply pours its energy into lower “branches”, sending them straight up to become the new tree.  Land that was cow pasture for decades has now, in a few short years, sprouted nearly a dozen different species of trees and an untold number of wildflowers and grasses.  And on a favorite lake a deadhead, a broken tree sticking out of the water hundreds of feet from shore, grows a single sprout with three leaves, refusing to let it’s desolate situation stop it from reaching new heights.  Nature finds a way.

Animals, too, display a powerful will to survive.  When I hunt I am extremely careful to take only high-quality shots out of respect for the animals I shoot at.  Unfortunately a few of those shots still miss their mark.  While I am always regretful of a less-than-clean kill (and for the record, there haven’t been many), I marvel at how a wounded animal refuses to give up on any chance at survival.  A deer with two broken shoulders will push itself through the woods away from danger, a grouse with a broken wing will do the same.  Neither species takes a hit and throws up a white flag.  A wounded animal becomes a much harder animal to kill because of its complete focus on survival.

What about our species, homo sapiens?  Specifically the Americanus variety – do we have the strength to “find a way” to survive?  I’m not sure we do, demonstrated perfectly this past week.  A wounded American appears to become a much weaker American; we take a hit and react with blame, protest, and riots.  Emotion replaces stoicism, the former much weaker than the latter.  We want change given to us and we want it RIGHT NOW – refusing to patiently seek the right path to new growth.  Rather than gain strength through interconnectedness we fracture ourselves into groups that “matter”, pitting one group against another.  Our leaders, and our potential leaders, seem to prefer moving crookedly through the shadows rather than standing straight and reaching for the sun.  We are a mess…but nature doesn’t care.  Nature continues it’s simple determination to survive while the most “intelligent” organisms on the planet stumble all over themselves.

My dad said it best last week as we drove home from a peaceful evening on the lake – “It’s no wonder we’re going nuts in this country when so many of us are piled up in cities and towns without a chance to experience what true peace really is.”  Slowly, calmly, peacefully, nature finds a way.  I am completely convinced that nature is the way…the way to peace, the way to survival, the way to live.  We all need to find a way to experience and observe nature as much as we possibly can – its lessons might be our only chance for a better future.