By: Graham MacWilliams
A plant needs water and nutrients and sun. Perpetually extracting Britsly oxtongue scours the earth to absorb all its mineral requirements, taking in sunlight to grow. How many plants have grown on this spot? How many generations of growth and return to the soil? What is there if nothing remains? Who can know what has grown before, what has been and passed along? Who can doubt that the highest point a plant has reached is the same as the earth from which it comes? Every point of growth is reached on the way back, every transformation in a plant’s life a facet of itself. While it grows today, it will not be here forever. Its greatest growth and its soil without a trace are the same. Its identity comes as much from its tracelessness as from its growth. The stillness through expression of this plant is an expression of higher grace. Its witnessing is a reminder of a law beyond the wheel of life and humans. Hints of beyond what is seen in day are present throughout the world in which we live. These are apprehended, or not, by human beings who must actualize their dearest good to survive.
