Looking Underneath
A lesson from the wildflowers and, to the chagrin of some, the spiders
Here’s the thing, I would consider myself a BIGGG fan of wildflowers. I may not know all the names or the species or where they like to grow in what seasons, but I know the essence of a wildflower.
Deeply relating to the vibrance, spontaneity, and alive nature of the flowers that grow wild, one would think that perhaps I had learned the breadth of the lessons they could teach, but on one sunny afternoon, lost among the trees, guided by a stern man who had been studying to be a park ranger “since he was 3,” the flowers had more to teach me.
Little lessons like:
There is never just one type of “Trillium” or “Violet” but rather dozens of variations.
Or, you don’t realize how many things grow around you until you really set your sights to look for them.
Or maybe even, you often find the flower you most hoped to find when you stopped wanting to find it at all.
But on this particular day, something more subtle took root in my spirit.
As we were walking through the trees, following the path, eyes low to the ground, the park ranger stopped, crouched down, lifted some unsuspecting leaves, and there they were, flowers growing low to the Earth at the base of the stem, not the top!
Asarum arifolia, commonly known as Little Brown Jug, was there, showing its vibrant, waxy green leaves, and underneath, small, almost invisible, brown jug-like “flowers” grew at its base.
And in that moment, something in me was touched.
As we continued on, I started to take notice that the Little Brown Jug wasn’t the only of its kind; in fact, on this one hike, we learned of at least three more flower variations that grow their flowers below or underneath their leaves.
Not only that, on the very last mile of the hike, with shaky legs and winded lungs, we again found ourselves at a full stop. As Park Ranger Brown crouched and lifted a leaf to reveal something fascinating: a beautiful, larger than most would enjoy, Fishing Spider. A litter critter, minding its own, beneath a leaf, only spotted by a man with a love for all things of the forest.
While a seemingly non-spectacular moment, these fascinating revelations whispered to me softly,
“Slow down, take your time, you never know what may lie beneath.”
Then it all came into focus.
Of the hundreds of hikes I have taken since I was a little girl, never once have I wondered if wildflowers could grow beneath a leaf or spotted a spider hiding so well in plain sight. It was only when a man took the time in his day to slow us down and show us something new that I was able to witness new beauty.
Two inspirations for the experience of one.
Firstly, there is more to slowing down than nervous system regulation and witnessing your inner wisdom. Another beautiful, powerful gift of slowing down is that you will most certainly always find something new in places you thought had nothing left to teach you.
In the slowdown, you look with more curiosity, sometimes boredom, and often a new perspective - everything is just a little less blurry.
Secondly, this is why sharing your knowledge, passion, creativity, and enthusiasm is so vital to community health and growth. I would have never known when, where, how, or why to look beneath leaves for beautiful treasures if Park Ranger Brown had not gotten low to the Earth and gently pulled them to the side. His knowledge inspired awe and wonder, even if, to him, this revelation existed in the mundane, and for that I am deeply grateful.
Today’s writing is part of the Teachings from the Forest series.
A string of short and potent writings that have lived in the ether around me like seeds all bursting to bloom all at once. All of these writings are inspired by the trees, rivers, flowers, bees, rocks, and dust-covered trails of the forest. So gather your most creative, open self, lace up your hiking shoes, and we shall journey into the trees to begin.
