At last! a proper spring morning; one to get us out on our favourite circular walk along the river and back along the Kennet and Avon canal. I suppose I could lend it a bit of spurious significance by calling it a transect but today was about the sun on our faces, warming us right through. Of course we noticed the sheer dynamic of plant growth but my notebook stayed in my pocket as we paid more attention to the nest building swans on the canal and the birdsong everywhere. The power of spring is unstoppable and knowing the succession of plants in the same spot year after year only makes it more impressive – or should I say awe inspiring. Spring is so transient that it’s almost a spiritual exercise in non-attachment. We can wonder at its beauty whilst knowing all along that it all passes. No place here for bitter reflection or clinging to the moment – it comes, it lifts our spirits and it passes and we can give silent thanks for that little shared moment.
In Henrietta Park we passed a Birch tree that expressed something of the paradoxical nature of life. I can’t recall ever seeing a tree so knackered by galls and outgrowths and yet still possessed of a strange beauty. Just down the path a great tree stump which last year boasted a large crop of Oyster fungus, is being rapidly consumed by other fungal rotters.
So let’s not call the walk a transect although we do it twice or three times a week, and let’s call it a conversation over time between sentient beings of wholly different orders, and I have to confess that this morning I think we both identified more with the knackered tree and yet – reading Oliver Rackham’s extraordinary book “Woodlands” – (P. 38 in my paperback edition) trees have their own strategies for longevity, none of which require expensive creams or medications. I think this one caught my mournful meditation on the fragility of life and whispered to me “Get over yourself and enjoy the sun!” So that’s what we did!
