Forsythia

Forsythia

Here on Long Island, the most reliable indicator that spring has arrived is the blooming of the forsythia.  Bulbs are too easily fooled, early and late, and vary in their habits by where they happen to be placed.  Most of the shrubs are too late, when some leaves are out and the grass is already green.  But when forsythia brightens the landscape, it is a clear sign that the heavy snows (except a possible freak storm) are over and will melt almost as soon as they arrive, and that it is time to get outside to meet the germinating weeds on their own terms.

Aesthetically, forsythia is a wonderful yellow, brilliant in the sun and with an unearthly glow in the mists common at this time of year.  They often companion with large weeping willows along the water, a harmony of blue, green, and gold.  They punctuate brown hillsides and accent the reddish tones as the tree buds swell.  There is a prediction of the gaudier azaleas to follow.  As a bonus, they are presentably interesting throughout the winter with their tangled shoots, and lushly green in the summer.

Forsythia requires humans as completely as any of our other companion species.  Around here, they must be planted _ not becoming invasive like bamboo.  Our trimming is required for them to maintain vigor and health. You never see them, for example, sprouting in a forest, unless it is an abandoned habitation of some kind.

You can find where they come from, what species they are linked to, on the internet if you wish.  The main thing is they are cheap, easy, rewarding, and reliable.  They stay under control _ unlike, for example, a tree that grows too large _ and are long lasting and hardy.  And so, a gardener’s ode to forsythia, a wonderful plant, a true indication that spring is near.

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The winter can drag on and on,  I am an impatient guy, and usually around the third or fourth weeks in February I make a bouquet of cuttings and bring them in to force in a vase of water.  A week or so later I have a lovely golden cloud brightening the kitchen.  It lasts a surprisingly long time, and instead of dying and shriveling up, it elegantly fugues into green shoots and leaves, which I keep until the full spring has kicked in outside and the real bushes are in full bloom.

Some would see this aesthetic treat as selfish vandalism.  After all, I am going out a damaging a perfectly naturalized plant for my own temporary enjoyment.  I can rationalize and say that the storms of winter often do worse damage, or that I will have to trim in the summer anyway, or that without me the plant wouldn’t be there in the first place, or that the next owner of the house may rip out everything and start over.  That is all true.  Yet the fact is that right now, this year, the forsythia is under my stewardship and I am hurting it just because I can.

That’s one of our problems with everything.  Heisenberg’s principle applies almost as much to nature as it does to atomic theory _ you can’t observe something without affecting it.  Wilderness is quite wonderful in theory, but we see it from a human-centric perspective, which means from our perspective it must be known in order to exist.  In some ways, that forsythia serves a human purpose on a human world and that it is all it is.  In others, of course, it is part of far more than my daily kitchen décor, and what I have done is sacrilege.

I cannot reconcile the views, but I want to be aware of such contradictions.  In the meantime, I am happy and appreciative and feel spring is just a little closer.

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Forsythia! No folklore name

On hillsides, blobs of brilliant yellow
In mist with willows glowing mellow
An import from far Asian shores
Found in every garden store
So cheap we’re always buying more
I force it when our spring seems slow
And write odd poems to its fame.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forsythia

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Forsythia illustrates perfectly the good and bad of our present civilization.  It is innocuous and makes me happy and I can brighten my yard and appreciate the landscaping of neighbors and parks.  On the other hand, there is only one variety or so now distributed worldwide with vast expenditure of energy and concentration at only a few breeding stations.  Native species, not so colorful, spectacular, nor immediately rewarding to the suburban landscape are crowded out and eliminated, continuing the destruction of local ecologies.

When I grow it, I take all the standard measures which are also full of evil effect.  Fertilizer runs down into harbors and streams, water over the summer depletes the aquifer, when I trim the cuttings are shipped off to the town recycling center, using more energy.  My selfish use is definitely a blight on any ecology or aesthetic outside of the human one, beyond my own fancies.  If other perspectives are valid, they never have a chance.

Even if I change my ways, I am helpless to change the larger pattern.  Others will grow the shrub, the garden center could care less about loss of my business, the global distribution will continue without a ripple.  If I should become adamant and start petitions and organize meetings, I will be merely seen as a harmless or annoying crank.  Forsythia presents no clear and present danger to anyone.  It is simply symptomatic of the unclear and distant dangers we seem to generate by multitudes.
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In Eighteenth Century Britain, countless country parsons spent their time carefully observing, analyzing, and recording the details of common nature, certain that by so doing the were opening the glories of god’s handiwork for everyone to better understand.  One of the most tragic consequences of the theory of evolution was the cruel alternative to this vision of the miraculous in everyday experience,  a scientific model that seemingly required no wonder nor glory, but simply chance, circumstance, and heartless struggle.

You could do worse than to assume the mindset of one of those clerics, and take an hour or so with a magnifying glass and possibly a sketchpad and truly examine a forsythia in flower.  Any life form is amazing, and too often you can ignore the complexity and just take much for granted.  Flowers especially are marvelous objects, whether from the hand of god or accident of nature or both.  Carefully regard the construction, the pattern of growth, and try to truly comprehend what it all means and how it fits with everything else.

More than that, carefully accept an artistic viewpoint and try to understand why a flower is beautiful, how it enriches you to notice it,  how important it is to have beauty in your life as part of centering and opening yourself to true experience.   The grand aesthetics of your world are not just in museums, but rather in all that is around you all the time that there seems all too little time to contemplate.  By doing this consciously, you will edge just a little closer to discovering what life and truth are truly about, and what you should fight to preserve.

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A pair of cardinals was ready to build a nest in big forsythia outside my kitchen window.

“Leave everything to me, honey,”  said the bright red male.  She flew off to find food.  He carefully constructed a beautiful nest on the sturdiest branches he could find,  naturally the lowest.  He showed her the nest proudly when she got back.

“Oh, that will never do!  Haven’t you seen that big orange cat that prowls around just looking for innocents like us to have for dinner?”

She left again, and with a little frustration the nest was rebuilt at the very top of the bush, which required considerable reengineering because of the flexibility of the supports.

But when his mate returned, she said “No, no, I’m sorry.  Don’t you know the crows will see this and swoop down to eat our eggs?”

He said he’d do better, and moved the nest a bit lower so that it was screened from prying eyes in the sky.  But the result was the same _ “Well, it’s safe enough from birds and cats, but I’ve noticed in early summer the human here trims everything back right through where it is now.”

“I give up,” said the male.  “Where do you think it should be?” 

“Oh, just a few inches lower dear.”  Although exhausted, he did as she wished, and the nest remained safe and a happy home for this summer’s brood.

The moral?  Location, location, location _ and ask the expert for advice before you do anything.

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A forsythia is inconsequential and transient, due to die or be replaced, useless except for giving beauty and somehow making sure there will be more forsythias.  Pretty much like each of us. But it is also a symbol of everything _ more than that, reality itself.

The moments when I experience it are only there if I take the time and make an effort to do so.  Otherwise it is ignored and just another part of the grey nothing surrounding me as I go about my important tasks.