Reading Pictures

How to Apologize to a Plant

This is a tale of imperfection and redemption.

First, the confession:
I sometimes kill rare and beautiful plants, including fringed gentians.

As the steward of a forest preserve, I am shepherd of many populations of wild plants (including the fringed gentian and many other rare or endangered species). Cutting brush is necessary, but it’s radical surgery. The ecosystem needs intensive care afterwards, so the open ground doesn’t get infected with yet other invasives. So after we cut the brush and herbicide the stumps, we plant the seeds of more than 100 now-rare species. After a few years of care, a rich natural ecosystem is able to proliferate. But in those first years, I use an Austrian scythe to cut away invasives, like swabs of iodine controlling infection in a wound.

I cruise through tall stands of splendid rare plants mixed with cancer-like invaders. One of the worst offenders is tall goldenrod, a native weed, which crowds out other grasses and wildflowers. After a fair amount of practice, that razor-sharp scythe blade can spare a restored plant and cut an invasive, though they are just millimeters apart. As the mighty goldenrod falls, the 20 or 30 nearby species remain.

Yes, it feels good. But as the 29-inch blade on the 61-inch handle swings rhythmically back and forth, thousands of times in a few hours, its point aimed at destructive plants, the cut is sometimes a shade too deep. It severs a gentian, or a lobelia, or some other rare grass or flower.

At first, when I’d make such an error, I’d berate myself and tell the plant, “Oh! Oh! I’m so sorry!” The apology was not very gratifying. Then soon I’d find myself stopping for a minute, finding another nearby individual or two of that aggrieved species and giving them special attention. I’d carefully cut away even the smallest invasive to give the needy species a competitive boost. The hundreds of gentians I’d see in future years would assure me that the apology was accepted.

Fringed gentian photo by Doug Sherman. The fringes foil pilfering ants, so the nectar will be saved for flying insects who in turn repay the plant with the sexual miracle of pollination. Words by Stephen Packard.
Read more about gentians and scything.