200921 Native/invasive
sept 20/21
I thought of this song because yesterday I asked myself: How many years, or hundreds of years does it take for an invasive species to become a native species? I was looking at these invasive plants [photo on left] who have taken over many roadside swamps from the bulrush [at right], a beautiful and sturdy reed that plays a valuable role in its environment. It helps to hold fast and support wetlands which are a key part of the water-earth cycle and has been a native long enough to connect to and work with the flora and fauna of its world. On these rushes the seed heads have burst open and the white fluffy seeds blow on the wind. They are even edible and it is thought that indigenous peoples may have cultivated them (! a footprint) as their leaves are useful and the seed pod is edible. (Before it explodes I assume: please research before eating bulrushes. My source is a gardening website - see below.)**
This too is an invasive plant, which, like a banana plant, grows from the the ground up every spring. It seeds itself and also has a root system which spreads it. It is called, (in Potton County at least) jungle weed, but when I googled it I found pictures of Jamaican Cannabis forests! And, much to my dismay, I discovered that my beautiful maples at home are invasive Norway Maples which can destroy native forests. I love them still, but there is a sadness.
This question of native/invasive speaks to the global spread of homo sapiens: how many hundreds of years must they live on a land before they can be called indigenous ("before they're allowed to be free"), because we are none of us indigenous except to Africa (Dr Leakey). When I go away from cities, my heart aches sometime for the world of this country's past, when the peoples who lived here for thousands of years left not not so much as a footprint (!) on the land, except for stories painted on cliff faces. Even these were painted with the earth colours found ready on the ground. You could have followed the roar of Niagara Falls and stepped out upon its cliffs, but there were no casinos, no souvenirs. It must have been a holy place.
******
Yesterday as I walked along Chemin du Lac, I saw a Great Blue Heron flying towards me up the highway! It turned west at Chemin Peabody and went out of sight behind the roadside trees. (Chemin = Road) Its flight was so slow and majestic: how rare and ancient it looked, a Pterodactyl flown out from another time.lake huron stormy weather
there was only the internal
light of a thousand miles of stormclouds
or fires in this green deep.
as if we were no longer of the sun
we the earthbound
the crawlers and
this red mother
sat in a circle and decided
that the lake
was crashing in a celebration
of joy
was god.
beach wrecked
these huron waves break me.
by Mumma Yaga some time in the later 20th century.
** https://www.gardeningknowhow.com/ornamental/water-plants/cattails/saving-cattail-seeds.htm
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