Our Endless and Proper Work

Finding a Miracle in Last Year's Leaves

“We cannot be grateful for what we do not notice, and we cannot honor what we fail to see.” Marcy C. Earle

“To pay attention / this is our endless and proper work.” Mary Oliver

“There are always flowers for those who want to see.” Henri Matisse

On Monday I took a walk on a new path in a local park. In South Central Indiana the first wildflowers are beginning to bloom. The very earliest tiny blossoms, the Spring Beauties and Harbingers of Spring have lifted my spirits for the last couple of weeks. But on Monday I saw the first yellow-orange trumpet-like Trout Lily and the elusive almost transparent Dutchman’s Britches, as well as glowing white Bloodroot blooms and purple Prairie Trillium. Each sighting literally dropped me to my knees, carefully peering closer, gently touching some of the blooms in wild and unabashed gratitude. I took a few photos and I’m posting them here.

Dutchman's Britches, Trillium, Bloodroot, Virginia Pennywort, last year's leaves and Trout Lily

I did not always know the names of these small miracles. I grew up on a city block in a northern factory town and did not learn the wildflower names except for the bright yellow dandelions and the tiny purple violets that people called weeds and dug out of their lawns. And yet, as a young woman, I was drawn to the woods and called to the wild places. It was then I started to learn the names of wild things —and each year I continue to find inordinate joy in welcoming flowers that have become old friends, and the experience of discovering new ones. There are miracles and wonders on every wooded trail, in every natural setting or even along the side of the road or coming up through the cracks of sidewalks.

You see, the way it works for me is that when I stop and really notice something, (especially if I learn its name) the more I begin to see it. I encounter and appreciate the bark or trunk or leaves of a particular tree and I realize that many of its kindred are lining the path. I look up the common and scientific name of a wildflower and my eyes are opened, and other examples are dotted here and there all around me. I learn a bird or birdsong and I hear its voice, distinct from the wash of trills and chips and calls that permeate a habitat. I name an insect, a mushroom, a stone in the creek, an all varieties of water or woodland critter and suddenly I begin to see these wonders more often. The more I notice, the more I notice. The more I notice, the more I appreciate. The more I appreciate the more my daily life is filled with gratitude.