Essays

Sunday morning coming down – after the festival
May 26, 2010

After weeks of preparation and planning, and after a successful weekend of “hosting” it was good to sit at home quietly, drinking coffee, listening to the grandchildren play in a back room.

A cinnamon toast tree danced in the southerly breezes. Smiling sun faces of many colors winked as the wind swept leaves across their faces. A mockingbird lit on the fencetop above the painted terracotta. It is cloudy again, with chances of rain. What an incredible storm we had on May 14th – the cinnamon toast tree has grown a foot in a week!

I have heard a folk tale about the plant… I do not know if it has any truth embedded. It may. I hope it does. I have been told only one plant of the species grows wild in the United States, although it is common on the other side of the lower Rio Grande. How did it arrive? And that is where my imagination kicks in! Could it be a “tree of memorial,” planted in loving memory and sorrow?

There are other mystery plants, such as the pecans of Geddis Spring, the Mexican White Oaks of Dolan Falls, the mountain laurel of Barnett Spring, the horsenettle of South Camp, and the Sand dune Bull Nettle. There are more! How about the lily of Gaines County – you can find stories about each on the Sibley Nature Center website.

Archaeologists have identified landscapes once tended as Puebloan gardens near Gran Quivira. With a knowledgeable eye, a person can see the remains of the gardens filling valleys several miles long. Archaic sites have been identified by plant community identification. A plant growing “wild” sometimes tells an incredible story.

The mockingbird began walking along the fence top, flicking its wings, drawing attention by flashing the white patches in its wings. The sun came out for a few seconds, one sunbeam highlighting the hummingbird salvia blossoms, and on cue, a female black-chinned hummer zipped in, screeching to a halt, then zooming away.

As I watched the mockingbird, Deborah websurfed and downloaded apps on her new iPhone, analyzing the tool’s usefulness in the field, and as a tool at the Sibley Nature Center. With 3G technology, cell phones hypercharge learning. Maybe in a few years 3G will be available everywhere.

Above the mockingbird, a mourning dove sat on its nest at the tip of a tree branch where squirrels fear to tread. The nest bobbed like a moored dinghy on gentle swells. The dove glanced up at a sibling group of young of the year house finches fuss-chittering.

A squirrel angled across the steep roof of the neighbor’s house. Chuy (llana’s chuao criollo) leapt to his feet from his place of repose at my feet, pushing past my legs to the window, lifting his front paws on the sill. He barked ferociously – what was he mad at? The squirrel? Squirrels find entertainment with dogs, if the dogs encourage it.

After four barks, Chuy turned and licked my hand, then curled on the rug. The mockingbird bounced along the pickets of the fence, hopping fifteen times before disappearing behind the cypress, but only flicked his wings less than half of the hops. Had a rival or mate landed further down the fence? I could not hear any bird sound. A white-winged dove lit near the mourning dove nest, and sidled toward it.

Being an observer can create epiphanies of intimacy. The earth and all of its creatures and plants always offer consistent positive reinforcement. The diversity of life all about us will allow connections to be revealed that will heal our souls.

Taking the time to unwind, just sitting at a window, drinking coffee, just watching and relaxing rejuvenates, releasing tensions collected and molded into arthritic ache, heals our souls, too.