The persistence of nature—to keep going no matter what—has always amazed and inspired me. Many times I’ve spotted a young ponderosa pine emerge from a group of boulders, finding the only dirt among them to sink its roots and grow toward the sun as well as gather what little water it can find in inhospitable of conditions. I’ve seen aspen trees hanging precariously over streams where it looks like one push could send them into the water. Yet they hang on.
On rocky hillsides, the yellow and white daisy spreads out among the gravelly soil, adding brilliant color to what seems a barren site. In spring, pasqueflowers (below) are knocked out by snowstorms but emerge bedraggled, coated with their own anti-freeze that allows them to recover and flower once the sun melts the ice off their petals. On the tundra above 10,000 feet, alpine wildflowers survive cold, snow and harsh winds, improbably spreading dazzling color across the windswept and rocky terrain, as if showing the world that beauty can surface anywhere.
In the canyons bighorn sheep find ways to surmount cliffs, finding small cracks in the rock to heave themselves up and down vertical cliffs. Near the cabin I once saw a moose limping and most likely in pain, but instead of laying down and giving up, it kept walking, intent on finding willow bushes for sustenance.
On a mountain stream, I’ve seen trout leap up a waterfall, throwing themselves over and over with all their strength in this uphill struggle to migrate. On their own migration journeys, hoofed animals like deer and elk will find a way around barbed wire fences. Pronghorn will scoot under them, lowering themselves as much as possible to avoid getting snagged on the barbs or caught in the wire. Nothing seems to deter them.
At the cabin, every spring the hummingbirds arrive during snowstorms and hunker down as best they can, waiting for the sun to come back out and warm them. This is what life hands them and so they endure the cold and wind, even while they dive bomb each other and keep up their incessant squabbling. Other birds, like songbirds, work to build nests in spring, lay their eggs and wait for them to hatch. But if a strong wind or hungry bear knocks down the nest, the parents, without hesitation or lamentation, will build a second nest if the conditions are right.
Even our pets persevere when in pain or near death. A friend didn’t realize how sick her dog was until she took him for a walk and he collapsed on the trail. We were able to coax him back to the car, but a visit to the vet showed that he had serious health issues and had been in pain. Yet he didn’t complain, kept pushing and following his human companion until he couldn’t anymore.
I once had a cat whose body was falling apart and could barely walk, but when she wanted to be on the bed with me, she would claw up the blanket. If only we humans were so persevering and uncomplaining.
On Lily Lake, on a late winter day, when only a patch of water is open, Canada geese huddle around its edges. Where does this push to survive and thrive come from? Do humans have it, or has it been knocked out of us because life has become too easy: food from the supermarket, medical interventions for most any physical problem and buildings that provide shelter from cold, wind and rain. I don’t know the answers. But when I see a small pine tree emerging from between boulders, my heart breaks a little: I know it likely won’t survive but the fact that it keeps trying gives me hope and makes me want to try harder.
Ah, you've reminded me of my "Colorado bonsai" that I mentioned and pictured at the end, here: https://piedtype.com/2010/08/23/if-a-tree-falls/ And I'm delighted to say that as of a couple of months ago, it is still there. No bigger, but still hanging in there. It's on the east side of Highway 7 just south of the intersection with Hwy 72.
I'm also reminded of D.H. Lawrence: “I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
Posted by: Susan R | December 19, 2023 at 06:09 PM
Thank you for this message of hope for the New Year. Hang on little tomato. Keep trying, it is what we are meant to do.
Posted by: shoney | December 20, 2023 at 10:44 AM
Susan, happy to hear that you share my feelings about these resilient trees and that your tree endures. I will have to check it out on my next drive up the canyon. The D.H. Lawrence quote is inspirational--a good lesson for all of us.
Posted by: Kathy Kaiser | January 13, 2024 at 10:17 AM