Letting Nature Take Its Course
I’ve always been amazed by nature’s innate ability to reproduce. Whether it’s a starfish that regrows an appendage or an oak sapling that humbly begins as a haphazardly buried acorn, nature finds a way to spring up, like a phoenix that rises from the ashes.
I was reminded of this simple fact earlier this week. Last year, my neighbor had grown fresh dill in his garden. The seeds were carried upon the wind to various spots on my lawn, and soon I was the proud owner of at least 10 dill plants of my own. The dill made a wonderful addition to my homemade potato salads and lentil dishes. My neighbor made a suggestion that I incorporate the dried seeds into my scrambled egg dishes; their mild flavor, which was reminiscent of caraway, perked up those Sunday breakfasts superbly. As I was clearing weeds from my flower bed this past week, I noticed that I already had three small dill plants that had risen from last year’s plants that had gone to seed.
Many years ago, my husband and I would spend our summers in the Pocono Mountains. One summer, we noted that one of our favorite forests had been destroyed by a tornado that caused a devastating fire. The charred remains of what was once a glorious wood left us feeling as barren as the trees. By summer’s end, however, we noticed some growth on a few of the branches. By the following summer, the forest had begun the process of regenerating itself. New growth had sprung from the blackened stumps and had begun filling in the gaps with bright green foliage. On our subsequent visits we noticed that wildlife had returned to the area and new life had sprung eternal from the ruins.
Our lives reflect nature’s reproductive lessons, as well. During my daughter’s years in the Hicksville School District, I witnessed the many changes that she experienced in every aspect of public school life. I experienced those changes with her, as I took a proactive role in her education. When she graduated, I felt at a loss, almost like the barren forest must have felt—bare, alone, lost and confused as to what my new role would be as the mother of a college student. Having been so involved, I felt adrift, like a boat without an anchor.
Now that my daughter has completed two years of her college education, I’ve noticed changes in her demeanor, as well as in our roles in the family dynamic. Nature has guided us to become more tolerant of one other, and has taught us that while some roles change and no longer serve, some roles take on new meaning. What started off as a mother-child bond has blossomed into a stronger friendship; where the hand-holding and constant questioning has faded, it has been replaced by mutual respect and fierce loyalty. Many years ago, during trying times, my own mom used to assure me with the words, “Let Nature take its course.” Because of my own impatience, I usually stood in the way of Nature’s progress and hampered my own efforts. However, when I got out of my own way and just let Nature do the necessary work, I found the results to be satisfying in ways that I never dreamed possible.
Life, as in nature, is in a perpetual state of change. Something that might be here today, might be gone tomorrow. However, Nature is always reinventing itself, from the smallest seeds to the members of our family to the mightiest oaks. If we’re careful to watch patiently and allow Nature to take its course, we could discover that we might not get what we expected, but we might find something even better than we could ever hope for.
