Finding Peace In Nature — Read The Book: Haiku

If I don’t find peace

in Nature, it’s because I’m

not reading the book.

Bring Peace In Nature To Others: Haiku

As we share how we /

find peace in nature, we help*/

others feel peace, too.

*bring/

peace to others, too.

[Context: We were walking through the woods and fields, doing Nature Observation at Spirit Tree Farms with some folks from out-of-town. As I riffed this haiku, I made these notes:

As we set about finding peace in Nature, it’s always a good time (both to do it, and to be had).

What’s amazing is that, as you share it, others feel it, and thank you for the experience.]

Stalling In Nature’s Joy: Haiku

When I stall finding
Joy in nature I rejoice
helping others learn.

I wrote this poem because I sometimes stall in my joy in nature, but my wife Marnie keeps finding happiness in God’s creations, and that makes me happy. She writes about finding peace and joy in Nature and God’s creations in her book.

The Tale Of The Ugly Front Yards

The following is based on a true story that happened in a horseshoe cul-du-sac neighborhood in unincorporated King County (Metro Seattle) during a rare summer drought in the mid-1990s.

A family once lived
in a nice neighborhood.
For as far as you looked,
all the front yards looked good.

T’was near the Pacific
that these fine yards existed.
Lush and green,
by Nature itself misted.

All green and manicured,
watered and mowed with care.
Herbicided. Pesticided.
No bugs or weeds there!

Each week like clockwork,
at a quarter past eight,
sprinklers would go on
keeping the lawns green and great.

(Even though in Seattle
it still rained a lot,
these folks still watered;
you know: In case it got hot!)

But this one family
had a south slope to their yard.
It made the sun bake it;
lawn turned brown and hard.

No matter how often
the Dad thatched and weeded,
the lawn wouldn’t grow.
So what more was needed?

He went out and bought
the best fertilizer.
While his wife was asleep;
(That’s sure to surprise her!)

But no matter how many
chemicals he put on,
the man could never green up
his scorched, brown lawn.

So one day he thought
(In a flash of inspiration)
“I’ll rip it all up!”
(or was it desperation?)

So up the grass came!
With each shovel he took,
the man left the dirt there:
each clod he shook.

He added some more soil
from his gardened back yard.
Good loam, organic,
that had never been hard.

Then the man went to a nursery
and bought plants by the dozens!
Herbs and natives wildflowers
for butterflies and their cousins.

Thyme and camomille,
rosemary, dogwood, rue.
Coneflowers and lupine;
sage, lavender, and moss, too.

And taking some slabs
he’d found near the freeway,
the man carefully placed stones
to make a rock pathway.

Each plant, herb and native,
he put in its place.
It was so creative!
A live masterpiece!

When the man finished,
sure, there was dirt. Parts were bare.
But nature grows and fills in,
so he didn’t much care.

He knew that the rains
of late fall, winter, and spring
would bring lovely growth;
the plants needed nothing.

One day his neighbor
met the man on the street.
Said the neighbor: “Doing yard work?
When will it be complete?”

“It looks so bizare!
It’s messy. It’s odd!
It’s so out of place!
When will you lay sod?”

Said the family man: “Oh, it’s done!
These plants need no more care.
They’ll grow and they’ll flourish,
and fill in what’s bare.”

He smiled at his neighbor;
feeling such joy, such pride
at the beauty he and Nature
were creating outside.

His neighbor scowled.
Disgust twisted his face.
“What!?!” he stammered.
“Just look at your place!”

“Your yard looks like garbage!
So messy. So dead.
You need to fix this!
You’re wrong in your head!”

“Come on!” his neighbor shouted,
“This does NOT look good!
Your dirt yard’s an embarrassment
to our whole neighborhood.”

With that the neighbor
turned and stomped back to his lawn’d home.
Sad, the man bent and dug
his hands deep into his loam.

He looked at his work
and murmured under his breath,
talking to his plants:
“I’ll show them yet!”

All through the fall,
winter, and spring,
the man watched his yard change:
Nature doing its thing.

By early the next summer
the plants had grown.
Flowers lush, vibrant, colorful:
A joy to behold.

And to smell! And to feel!
And to taste! And to feed!
This family’s yard had all the good food
that pollinators need.

They came! Bright butterflies and moths,
gentle wasps, bees, bugs too.
Colorful songbirds all came to feast
on blossom nectar stew.

Then something strange happened
in this eternal rain land.
The hot sun came out
and did not hide again.

No clouds to cover the heat.
No rain to make green.
No cool ocean breezes.
It was a bleak desert scene.

All the land was parched.
The sun? Scorching hot.
Was there enough water?
No, for a change, there was not!

So city and county governments decided
(because that’s what they do):
“Water rationing must start!
Free lawn-watering’s through!”

“You can lightly moisten your yard
only once every other week.”
So the Council declared
and the homeowners all shreaked:

“Our lawns! They’ll all die!
They’ll turn brown and bare!”
Said the government: “Folks must drink! Bathe! Flush!
Your lawns? We don’t care!”

Ah, but family man’s yard was native:
Herbs and flowers used to the heat!
They’d evolved that way.
With drought they’d compete.

And not just compete, but thrive!
Throughout a dry hundred days
they blossomed and flourished
and delighted people’s gaze.

Old folks would drive by to look.
School classes would visit,
asking the man about the plants:
Seeing, smelling, tasting: “What is it?”

Not just seeing row on row of
manicured lawns of green,
instead, a riot of color!
“Call Sunset Magazine!”

The man would patiently answer
each earnest joyful question
about his native plant front yard,
and he’d offer suggestions.

Because folks were willing
to listen and learn
how to replace sterile lawns
so easily burned.

The rains finally came,
(for the lawns, much too late.)
They’d all died and turned brown.
They’d all met their fate.

Replacing dead grass
is not cheap, easy, or quick.
It costs thousands of dollars
(and hope that sod sticks!)

One day by the mailbox
the family man met his neighbor.
Pointing at his dead lawn,
the man said: “Please, do us a favor!”

“Fix your front yard. It looks trashy!
It’s all brown. Dead. Not good!
It’s an embarrassment
to the whole neighborhood!”

The neighbor’s head dropped
like the blades of his dead lawn.
He remembered his cruel words.
He knew he was wrong.

The man didn’t gloat (much).
He didn’t chide or scold.
He let Mother Earth do the teaching;
changing young and old.

Letting them see
with his own tiny front yard
how each helps shape the world.
With Nature, it’s not hard.

To see how far I’ve come since those days, check out my wife Marnie Kuhns’ book on finding peace in Nature.

Facing Insurmountable Tasks Advice — Partnering With Nature: Prose

Recently, I read a post in a Native Habitat social media group. The person asked the group what they should do about their recently-purchased three acre property that was disorganized and overrun with non-native, invasive species, some so thick as to make walking through the property nearly impossible.With some passion and frustration, they explained that they didn’t know where to start or what to do. Almost to the point of despair, they said they were worried because there were non-native vines all over the trees, not only strangling them but threatening to collapse the larger branches, as well as creating a dense shadow on the forest floor where nothing could grow. They specifically asked what poisons and herbicides to apply, and how to apply them, to control these troublesome invaders.

As you can imagine, there were many answers, ranging from the drastic to the thoughtful. Interestingly, most suggested the property owners focus on assessment and inventory.
Suggestions included:
*Get a plant app (such as PlantNet), and go through the property, identifying and labeling all the plants
*Make a calendar and a schedule, going through each section at a time to clear out invasives and control what is wantedSome were more drastic, including:
*Do a controlled undergrowth burn, protecting the big trees, and see what grows back

*Chop away everything invasive, and apply deep-acting herbicides to the roots

As I read these responses, I thought of our own experience at our six-acre Spirit Tree Farms in Catoosa County, Northwest Georgia. I realized that the original post exhibited the same fears and frustrations I’d felt when I first purchased the property:

I didn’t know what was invasive, non-native, and undesirable, compared to what was native and welcome
It was such a large task, I was overwhelmed and didn’t know where to start
I was afraid to make a mistake

Lessons Learned From Partnering With Nature

It was then I understood the lessons I’d learned from listening to and working with Nature as a partner. This was the advice I gave:

Listen to the land. Many people think we have to use our own wisdom and knowledge to “Save the Earth”. The reality is, Mother Earth knows what she needs. Nature understands, even on a small scale, the actions we as partners should take. When partnering with Nature, work with the land.
Know what you want to do — in an overarching way. The original poster wanted a property filled with native trees, bushes, wildflowers, and other plants. Others might want a giant play area for their kids and grandkids. Some might want a food production focus, to be self sustaining. Still others might want a food plot for deer, rabbits, and game birds. At Spirit Tree Farms, we want walkable areas where we can teach and model partnering with Nature, along with Nature observation and creativity. These are all valid uses of the land, but they all require different solutions.
Do something. Do anything. Yes, making an inventory, designing an overarching plan, creating a calendar, are all vital — but they will not do anything to change the land or fix the problems. A favorite quote from my youth states: “The song I came to sing remains unsung. I spent my life stringing and unstringing my instrument.”
UPDATE: As I’m editing these piece some months later, I’ll add this thought: Do research sooner rather than later. I FINALLY got my soil tested (University of Georgia County Extension program). Turns out that I’d planted the blueberry bushes and ginseng roots in completely the wrong place. (The soil pH is way off). In other words, partnering with Nature means being smart, too!

I suggested that they pick one thing to do, and start doing that for a set time each day. I suggested the land owner start with spending an hour each morning and an hour each evening (during the cooler part of the day), and focus on one task. I pointed out that, if they didn’t have that much time on some days, even 15 minutes daily would bring a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I pointed out that, in the original post, they seemed especially concerned about the invasive vines which were strangling the native trees. I suggested they go out with a small saw or a pair of pruning loppers and spend their time cutting and killing the vines at the base of the trees. I reminded them that they didn’t need to pull the vines off the trees just yet; killing them would (a) begin to solve the problem and (b) make it easier to pull them off later on. The key was to do something, and to focus on the highest priority, or their greatest concern.

Pulling Privet Parable

In my own experience, I listened to the land and discovered that a highly-invasive non-native plant, Chinese privet, was creating a mono-culture where nothing else could grow. Not only were these plants rapidly spreading, but they shaded out the sunshine, took up all the soil nutrients and water, and their roots and leaves distributed poison which prevented the growth of native plants.By listening to the land, I became “a man on a mission”. I would go out every day and pull up or cut down privet. Some of these bushes were as large around as my thigh, and would grow back shoots and runners even after I’d cut the main trunk. But I’d learned that applying herbicides to the trunk would potentially ooze through the roots, killing desirable plants around the privet. Instead, I kept cutting off the shoots, and eventually the entire privet system would die and rot to the point that I could use my angle-handled Fiskar shovel and leverage out the rootball.

I also learned to take advantage of what Mother Earth provided. Many people won’t go out and work on the land after a hard rain. “It’s too wet, it’s too muddy, it’s too gooey” they argue. Fortunately, I lived for 25 years in the Seattle area, where if you don’t work outside when it rains, you don’t work outside.

What I discovered is that, after a hard rain, small- and medium-sized privet plants — because of their shallow root system — came out quickly and easily with a firm tug. In fact, I now relish the rain, because I learned that I can pull out about ten times more privet and other invasive species when the ground is wet than when it is dry.

I explained to the original poster that, by listening to the land, and by working on what concerned them the most, they would probably learn lessons and get unexpected benefits as well. For example, after cleaning out a space of over 100 yards x 10 feet deep of privet lining my rural driveway — a giant monoculture — by the next year, more than 27 different native trees, shrubs, wildflowers and other plants sprang up in place of the privet. These native and beneficial species were there the entire time, but the privet was crowding them out.

This was such an impactful lesson to us that my wife used it as part of a presentation on Finding Peace in Nature. You can watch her first presentation about it here. It was received so enthusiastically that she expanded the concept, creating a book, journal, and training on it. Explore that here: SpiritTreeFarms.com/Peace. It focuses on how we as humans should put aside our hubris and vanity in trying to “fix Mother Earth”, and instead listen to her as she explains to us not only what she needs, but what we need and can learn from her.

Partnering With Nature Needs Organization

This privet parable had such a deep influence in my life that now, when I go out to work on what I feel I should do on the property (yes, I pray about what I should do, what would be most beneficial to myself AND the land), I take a notebook (or my phone) along. When I get the thought to “plant / transplant something here” or “trim this /remove that from there” or even “burn this section of field”, I take notes.

I explained to the landowner that one of the most beneficial suggestions I’d received was from my wife, who is very organized. She noticed I was getting a huge list of things to do, but — other than the privet — wasn’t getting much done. She created a spreadsheet, and had me populate it with tasks, including the what, where, when and how (and, sometimes, when I need motivation, a note on “why”.) Now, when I’m inspired to do a task, I not only start working on it, but I put it into the spreadsheet, so the inspiration becomes captured and actionable.Ultimately, the lessons I’m learning from this experience at Spirit Tree Farms are:
*Listen to Nature and The Creator
*Do something / ANYTHING
*Capture
*Review
*Continue to listen
*Be inspired
*Learn

Many of these thoughts and lessons are captured on only in SpiritTreeFarms.com/Peace, but in other writings on NaturesGuy.com, CreationGirl.com, and my creative blog, CyranoWriter.com