Thank you for this beautiful essay! Skunk Cabbage is such an overlooked being, doing it's thing without fanfare in places most of us rarely go. I'm so glad to read this appreciation of it's magic, and to learn so much more about it. Kind of blows the mind, really. Our wetlands are also underappreciated magical places deserving attention, protection, and respect. Thanks for illuminating both the plant and it's place.
And yes, the form is so obvious it's pretty mind boggling that no one else send to notice. Or care. Speaks volumes.
You know, we haven't spent a whole lot of time in the wetlands since we moved to Bellaire, so we haven't noticed any! I'm hesitant to say there aren't any, or even many, up here, because I feel like I remember running across some in a cedar swamp a half hour south of us a handful of years ago.
Silver Maple is up though, and bundling as well as it can right now in the post-bloom cold!
What a beautiful way to "awaken" my youthful memories of walking through areas of damp lowlands and grassy fields that were available to a youngster as he went out about his day exploring! "Go outside and play.. it's a nice day", was my permission slip to roam about and sometimes return with muddy shoes and wet pantlegs to my mother's queries of "where have your travels taken you, this time? Let's get those wet shoes and socks off...unroll those cuffs and shake of the dirt and mud OUTSIDE; before you come back into this house and get cleaned up... AGAIN!"
My mother's exasperation was short lived as I almost always brought her back something just for her from my journey. Brings tears to my eyes thinking of what a kind soul she had, allowing me to explore Earth's treasures with the wide eyes of youth, discovering something new each and every time I went out "exploring".
I hope her gentleness and kindness are genetic traits allow me to appreciate the beauty that this good Earth still provides, if we just allow ourselves the time to slowly walk and observe. Thank you for a beautiful presentation, Michelle.
Ken, thank you so much for sharing this sweet remembrance with me! ❤️ I think you have her gentleness and kindness in good measure, with a large helping of your own that you yourself have cultivated. We’ll take that walk together soon! Before Skunk Cabbage fades!
Thanks for reposting this, Michelle. A truly fascinating story. I shall look more closely in the Scandinavian woods for their own special signs of Spring. This weekend I’ll be spending in the Estonian forests…
P.S. I had already come across Craig Holdrege (and his work on the skunk cabbage) because of his link to Goethean science.
Thank you Mark! I found Holdrege and his collection of writings for the Nature Institute when I was researching for this piece. I immediately loved his tone and affirmation of "getting to know" the Skunk Cabbage--that humble awareness of subjectivity that is so missing from the hyper objectivity in "western" capitalistic science (since Des Cartes and Bacon, et al). Objectivity may be important in experimental science, but subjectivity always exists, it cannot and often should not be fully controlled. This is why experimental research always includes "limitations".
Nothing is truly "controllable". Subjectivity is often mistakenly seen as being only the subjectivity of the observer, but true observers open fully to the subjectivity of the lives they are learning from.
I have to admit I have not had any deep encounters with Goethe--my formal education did not include him and I haven't dug into the body of work myself. But, prompted by your comment, I looked at the sampling of Craig Holdredge's writings that include the Goethean approach and recognized kinship. Thank you for pointing that out . . .
I'd love to know what is showing itself in an Estonian forest . . .
It is not really designed as a stand-alone article, but I have found it helpful in connecting my interest in historical "threads" that are worth picking up (in the way Dougald mentions in "At Work in the Ruins") with natural, and even artistic, observation.
Thank you for this beautiful essay! Skunk Cabbage is such an overlooked being, doing it's thing without fanfare in places most of us rarely go. I'm so glad to read this appreciation of it's magic, and to learn so much more about it. Kind of blows the mind, really. Our wetlands are also underappreciated magical places deserving attention, protection, and respect. Thanks for illuminating both the plant and it's place.
And yes, the form is so obvious it's pretty mind boggling that no one else send to notice. Or care. Speaks volumes.
Right? Thank you, Elizabeth <3 xo
Love this wonder and connection-inciting piece, Michelle. Well-done and thank you!
So happy to know you connected with it, Taylor! Thank you for reading! What's Skunk Cabbage doing up there in your world?
You know, we haven't spent a whole lot of time in the wetlands since we moved to Bellaire, so we haven't noticed any! I'm hesitant to say there aren't any, or even many, up here, because I feel like I remember running across some in a cedar swamp a half hour south of us a handful of years ago.
Silver Maple is up though, and bundling as well as it can right now in the post-bloom cold!
I loved being able to listen to this! Thanks so much for the detailed and beautiful descriptions.
I love when authors have audio too! So happy you connected with this piece, Shannan. Thanks for diving in ❤️
What a beautiful way to "awaken" my youthful memories of walking through areas of damp lowlands and grassy fields that were available to a youngster as he went out about his day exploring! "Go outside and play.. it's a nice day", was my permission slip to roam about and sometimes return with muddy shoes and wet pantlegs to my mother's queries of "where have your travels taken you, this time? Let's get those wet shoes and socks off...unroll those cuffs and shake of the dirt and mud OUTSIDE; before you come back into this house and get cleaned up... AGAIN!"
My mother's exasperation was short lived as I almost always brought her back something just for her from my journey. Brings tears to my eyes thinking of what a kind soul she had, allowing me to explore Earth's treasures with the wide eyes of youth, discovering something new each and every time I went out "exploring".
I hope her gentleness and kindness are genetic traits allow me to appreciate the beauty that this good Earth still provides, if we just allow ourselves the time to slowly walk and observe. Thank you for a beautiful presentation, Michelle.
Ken, thank you so much for sharing this sweet remembrance with me! ❤️ I think you have her gentleness and kindness in good measure, with a large helping of your own that you yourself have cultivated. We’ll take that walk together soon! Before Skunk Cabbage fades!
Thanks for reposting this, Michelle. A truly fascinating story. I shall look more closely in the Scandinavian woods for their own special signs of Spring. This weekend I’ll be spending in the Estonian forests…
P.S. I had already come across Craig Holdrege (and his work on the skunk cabbage) because of his link to Goethean science.
Thank you Mark! I found Holdrege and his collection of writings for the Nature Institute when I was researching for this piece. I immediately loved his tone and affirmation of "getting to know" the Skunk Cabbage--that humble awareness of subjectivity that is so missing from the hyper objectivity in "western" capitalistic science (since Des Cartes and Bacon, et al). Objectivity may be important in experimental science, but subjectivity always exists, it cannot and often should not be fully controlled. This is why experimental research always includes "limitations".
Nothing is truly "controllable". Subjectivity is often mistakenly seen as being only the subjectivity of the observer, but true observers open fully to the subjectivity of the lives they are learning from.
I have to admit I have not had any deep encounters with Goethe--my formal education did not include him and I haven't dug into the body of work myself. But, prompted by your comment, I looked at the sampling of Craig Holdredge's writings that include the Goethean approach and recognized kinship. Thank you for pointing that out . . .
I'd love to know what is showing itself in an Estonian forest . . .
I've no idea whether this webpage would be of interest: https://www.lancaster.ac.uk/users/philosophy/awaymave/405/wk8.htm
It is not really designed as a stand-alone article, but I have found it helpful in connecting my interest in historical "threads" that are worth picking up (in the way Dougald mentions in "At Work in the Ruins") with natural, and even artistic, observation.
Thanks Mark, I’ll take a look!