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| Echinocereus viridiflorus |
Believe it or not, I have not one but three friends who regularly dig this cactus out of their lawns. Not lawns perhaps as much as somewhat groomed prairie--but they do dig these up (mercifully usually potting them up to share with the likes of me, who dotes on this strange morsel). Let's not talk about the countless other wildflowers displaced by the million homes built along the Front Range.
I should warn you: this is not going to be a "pretty pretty" blog about nice things. It's about loss. I know that in my lifetime millions of these hedgehog cacti have given way to homes from Pueblo to Fort Collins--the plant unwisely chose the piedmont of the Front Range as its preferred habitat. As a child, I used to marvel at vacant lots near my home that were carpeted with these--you couldn't step without crushing them (which is why my friends dig them up)....
Those vacant lots are all now mega mansions. I wish I'd dug every one of these up in retrospect--the spination and flower color are so distinct from plant to plant. Every one crushed and destroyed: millions of them.
In the last year, I have watched many things I loved and admired be demolished: I probably don't need to detail what--since you, reader, probably have a similar list. But here it is--so easy to type it out--but each of these things felt like a major felony in my personal Universe: the house I grew up in (where my family lived for 65 years) and where I built my first gardens had the whole yard converted to bluegrass. A store I drove past every day on the way to work cut down the outstanding specimens of mountain mahogany (Cercocarpus ledifolius ssp. intermontanus) I admired as I drove by--replacing them with nothing. The new owner of my first house removed a spectacular Mahonia fremontii and some dwarf conifers and wildflowers I'd planted 35 years ago leaving bare earth. New owners of a home a mile from my house I've blogged about destroyed the last vestiges of prairie there...In my private Universe, the last year I've seen a large number of the sacred touchstones of my personal landscape devastated--a sort of aesthetic equivalent of COVID-19 only affecting special plants.
I'm writing this because an airport is scheduled to expand and destroy a remarkable small prairie in Illinois: read about it in this Blog: Remnant Prairie Under Threat (Bell Bowl Prairie). The author of the Blog posted the image below--that tugged on my heart strings: like my little green-flowered hedgehog cactus that has had much of its range built over, there are just fragments of range where this gentian still grows in the vast Tall-Grass prairie region--99% of which was displaced by cornfields and Anthropocene constructions in the blink of a Geologic eye. Do we really want to see this little fragment destroyed to facilitate more Amazon shipping? While you're at it, join the Facebookpage dedicated to preserving this little prairie.
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| Gentiana puberulenta Photo by Cassi Saari |
My most faithful Blog follower (James, where are you?) suggested I could perhaps blog or otherwise encourage to you speak up on behalf of this special spot. I think that if you read Cassi's blog, you too will be spurred to send a few letters on behalf of this special little spot. Will humans destroy everything that's special for "progress" and greed out of stupidity and ignorance? Incidentally, I've wanted to see this gentian for about five decades: had I read Cassi's blog a few months ago, I know I would have bought a ticket and flown out to see the place. If it's not destroyed by next August, I will go there (remind me, James!)
Haven't we paved over and destroyed enough? I cannot find it to end on, but a Modern Greek poet has a poem that starts "they're destroying everything picturesque": It is a heartbreaking lament on the devastation of the Anthropocene--which we all recognize as having gone way too far. It is the discordant, disturbing background music in the lives of anyone with half a heart and a fifth of a brain.
I have come to realize that the wellsprings of my life, my livelihood, my passion have been dedicated to mitigating, thwarting and seemingly vainly attempting to roll back the Anthropocene. One by one I feel we have lost so many battles. But by God, we must win the war.
Very nice piece and a strong knock-on-the-head about losing more of our mother earth. I too recall woodlands near my home in upstate NY that we played in and how we would marvel at the wildlife and flowers it contained. Development happened - a butcher's union office building and a new nursing home would be built there. As a young child, I was confused..... And every day this is happening. The Anthropocene is a strange time still to me too. Populations of our species keep growing, and in the name of progress (some good for the constituents), consumption of resources keeps growing. I have some "anthro-guilt" for lack of a better word, but I feel good as I lay down my Amazon cardboard to prevent the non-native winter grasses from erasing the few trails I have in my gardens (and spreading into my gardens). It's complicated and sad - I still miss those rich temperate woodlands near the house I lived in for my first 20 years..... Nice piece - it made me think about this and was a poignant reminder. Long live whatever is left untouched, anywhere!
ReplyDeleteDelete this link if it is too much to share. I find the link goes to your post.https://3quarksdaily.com/on-climate-truth-and-fiction
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteI checked your link Lowrie: I have not found "the link goes to your post"--but I'm leaving your quizzical comment. Perhaps someone else can make sense of it. I checked all my links and they all go to where they're supposed to in my experience. But Cyberspace is an artifact of the Anthropocene, which I disparaged--or at least suggested should be curtailed--so it could be an act of Karma on its part.
ReplyDeletePanayoti, try to copy and paste. It goes to a 12 part discussion of the Anthropocene. The author is an interesting women. Thanks for bearing with me.
ReplyDeletehttps://3quarksdaily.com/on-climate-truth-and-fiction
DeleteAha! gotcha, Lowrie! I have not read all the posts, but what I did resonates. I see your logic now. I an sure some will follow your lead. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteYour lament is shared by pretty much every place on Earth. As a child I would mourn a favourite place that was slated for more development, my dad would say 'It's progress'. It confused me then but now I know he was wrong. If we don't stand up and fight what will be left? Hence, my once beautiful home town is now something out of a surreal apocalyptic movie.
ReplyDeleteI have signed petitions and wrote to public officials. There are others who are better at speaking/writing on the topic (like yourself). I think it is best if I let those who are more qualified do the speaking. I am a good weed puller, but not talented at being a spokesperson. I need a lot of help from subject experts and editors to pull together writing that comes easy for the more talented.
ReplyDeleteFYI - Comment by James McGee. I’m not sure why I was not asked to put in my google account login so my name would show up.
DeleteLove those little cactus. I've had two. the first one got squashed somehow so I ordered one from High country greenhouse it was doing great in a spot I thought was safe when someone doing work on my house set their ladder foot right on it. Grrr.
ReplyDeleteIn the longer term, some millions of years, the planet will be fine. Amazing new species of plants will eventually evolve.
ReplyDeleteOur own species will most likely vanish--the ideal scenario is that a remnant population evolves into something far wiser. But the biosphere will eventually be in balance again, no matter what.