by Christine Maccabee

“Earth Stars”

Ever since my early twenties, I have been fascinated by flowers of every variety and, thus, began seriously investigating them. At that time, I was also reading literature about the ancient tradition of mandalas as a meditation tool in India. The mandala has a center that symbolizes the source of life, be it Allah, God, the Great Spirit, or whatever one might call it. The center holds everything else together, like the spoke of a wheel, and without it, things would fall apart and there would be chaos. From that center radiates Creation, or life, in all of its amazing diversity and beauty. Similarly, most flowers have this same feature, with centers from which reproduction occurs in the form of seeds. That center of nectar, pollen, and seeds serves the purpose of ongoing sustenance, thus enabling ongoing life for myriad life forms, including, of course, people.

Captivated by this reality, I created mandalas from various parts of flowers, using stamen, pistil, petals, leaves, and bracts, basically dissecting the flowers carefully and pressing the various parts. Each design I made was unique, and many reminded people of snowflakes. If you look at a flower closely, especially those that radiate perfectly symmetrically from the center, then you will understand my fascination. In fact, there are people who seriously meditate on flowers, thus creating more of a sense of balance in their lives. For me, creating mandalas was a waking and a working meditation, keeping me centered and focused as I created each one; I sold hundreds of framed pieces over a period of twenty years. Now I simply grow flowers.

This summer, I had a newcomer to my gardens: the Morning Star Sedge, a native grass that I did not plant, but which was brought here by a bird, no doubt. I discovered it quite by accident, along a pathway down to my main garden, and was astonished when I saw it. It is not a flower at all, but a type of native grass, used ornamentally by some people in their landscaping. The seed head is beautiful, very star-like and perfectly symmetrical. You may be familiar with its graceful but sturdy grasses from which the stems of the seed heads emerge. The seed heads are a lovely green, which turn chocolate brown by late summer. By early autumn, I am sure that the wild birds will be enjoying those seeds, as well as the seeds of the chicory and woodland sunflowers, which I also have here in my gardens as habitat.

As anyone who reads this column knows, I am passionate about preserving habitat for pollinators and birds. Here on my 11+ acreage, I am purposely allowing close to one hundred wild native plants to complete their entire life cycles, from flower to seed. Such diversity of plant life—no matter how tall and gangly or small—sustains the health of a host of animals, insects, and humans, in this, our rainforest. By August, the final show will begin and I look forward to it.

I look forward to witnessing thousands of tiny Aster flower stars, and hearing the profound sound of untold number of wings whirring as the bees fuel up for the coming inevitable cold weather. The essential Golden Rod flowers will also begin blooming (Golden Rod is not a major pollen producer that creates allergies, as some people mistakenly think), and I will watch as the Monarch butterflies feed on them before their long journeys south. Did you know there are, or were, 2,687 species of Aster and 16 species of Golden Rods in America; on my property, I have about 5 species of each.

The beautiful earthly flower stars, besides providing food for a wide variety of pollinators and birds, are a source of inspiration to humans. Also, it is well known that some have important medicinal properties, such as the Coneflower. I will soon gather and dry the flowers and leaves of my Coneflowers, which will be added to teas I make from other herbs I grow. Coneflowers provide Echinacea, which is important as an immune system enhancing herb. The root is the most potent, so here and there, I will pull some out for their roots.

Unfortunately, there is an ongoing war being conducted against Earth’s stars, in the form of herbicides, pesticides, and habitat loss. Next month, I will continue speaking for the wildflowers and the health of our planet, our people, and all our relations.

Meanwhile, I suggest you walk slowly and often in wild places where wild things grow, and don’t forget to look to the stars!

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