I stood in awe as the fleet meadow brome grass field pollinated. At this one magical moment, when the air was filled with the mauve colors of the pollen and as it floated across the face of that field, I knew I had witnessed one of the great miracles of life; fertilization and the passing on of genetic information to the next generation.
It seemed a simple act of nature, but nature is never simple and amazing in her complexity and astounding in her beauty and ability. The pollen, light and soft, was swept by the breeze to create new life. To sit at the foot of her stage and to be witness to her magic was a privilege. To be entrusted with this field as her manager was daunting. And to be connected with this land was an honor.
If I appreciated this simple pasture and her role, she only wanted me to ensure her safety through an enabling eco system that allowed for a biodiverse community to thrive. If I listened to her, she only wished for sun and water and the ability to set her roots in fertile soil. If I cared for her, I would not tear her down past her crown or trample her with wheels for sport, I would only take my share and leave her to hers. These things I understood.
It is over. The mauve haze has settled and the air is once again still. She sighs gently and I cling to the memory and reflect on my part in this great production called life. The seed now sitting upon my palm is the future and I am called to protect and honor it. This I will do.
