The Dogwood's Secret

Nature's Secret

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

When we moved into town from the country, we dug up a dogwood tree from our old home and brought with us. Dogwoods are native to this area and grow out in the woods and along the roadside. This little tree sat in a bucket for three or four years, watered only by the rain, not sheltered in cold. It hung on through all of it and finally, we got around to planting it, or at least, I did since by then, I was no longer part of a “we.” All around and over it stood tall oak trees; old, sprawling, shade providers. And so the little dogwood tree sat; it grew a little each year, but never put out more than four or five blossoms. I thought at times that I should dig it up and move it or cut it down, but I didn't. Then a few years ago, we had a terrible drought for two years in a row. The grass died in patches, the oak trees fell prey to carpenter ants and borers, and one by one, had to be cut down. Now there are only three oaks in the front yard, where once there were five oaks and one hickory. This spring, some twenty-five years after it was dug out of a mossy bank in Shelby county, the dogwood is in full bloom. All it needed was the encouragement of sunlight, a hand full of fertilizer, and a long stretch of patience.

In the words of Emerson, “Nature always wears the colors of the Spirit.” Right now, I hope that where you live is as beautiful as where I live. The Japanese Cherry trees are in full bloom, the tulip trees are blazing magenta, azaleas are just opening, and the dogwoods look like runaway brides. It's breathtaking. Waiting patiently through the long cold winter has paid off. Such is the secret of the dogwood tree.

                                                In the Spirit,

                                                    Jane