Dear Friends,
I frequently visit a rural township cemetery near my home. White pines stand at the top of a hill and a few graves dot the hillside that is covered by mature oak trees. The cemetery is isolated and the forests that surround it are home to an array of wildlife. I enjoy being present to the paradox of the stillness and the movement that exists here.
On this visit as usual, I stop my vehicle on the dirt lane. Beside my car in the grass are two small perennial plants, sedum that grow here each year. These plants are growing beneath the fringe of the branches of a white pine. Whenever the grass in the cemetery is mowed, the sedum is struck down as well. I suspect that no one notices they are even here. For years I have considered removing these plants and putting them in my garden where they will be able to grow freely. In the past I have been uncomfortable with taking what may not be mine.
I set out a box that contains packages for the plants and a trowel for digging. As I kneel to begin the process of removing these plants, I am sad. The previous evening someone has mowed the grass in the cemetery. The sedum is cut off and the remaining leaves are ragged from the blades of the lawn mower. I wonder if I will cause further damage by disturbing these plants in this condition. I am also concerned that they may not survive transplanting despite my best intentions. As I contemplate, the sound of a bird’s wings against the air interrupts my thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of black. I wonder what bird this is. I compare the sound to the blades of a helicopter meeting the force of the air. I go back to focus on the task before me, digging so as to not disturb the root systems. I carefully untangle the sedum from the grass. When I have completed my work, I look above me into the white pine to find this bird whose wings I have heard. Less than twenty feet away on an open branch sits an adult Bald Eagle. It is watching me. For many years I have come to this spot to watch and to listen. Now, I am aware that I too am being observed. It feels natural to be in the presence of this great bird. There is a feeling of balance and harmony. I feel included. After this majestic eagle lifts off the branch, it circles and then flies overhead. I watch breathless as it fades into the distance off to my left. I am left with the gift of remembrance.
With Love,
Diane Evans |
