What Lies Beneath

Tuesday was Alex the exterminator. Thursday was my friend Leslie, a botanist. It has been a great week for learning things.

Leslie is everything Alex isn’t. Alex is quirky and full of tales of life threatening encounters and since he is missing most of one eyebrow I am inclined to believe him. Leslie is quiet and lovely.  Her gear and her long blonde hair reminded me of how Jane Goodall might have looked if she had ever been spotted in an Alberta wheat field. 

Years ago the company Leslie works for was recruited to study the disappearing wetlands in the area where I live. On the land behind our acreage Leslie and her team found a large growth of a rare, endangered moss plant. If you are a botanist that excites you and Leslie has always wanted to come back and study it carefully. She has asked me repeatedly. Finally, on Thursday I got permission and we both set out on a moss quest.

My part of Alberta is beautiful at this time of the year. That day the sky was wide open and blue, the fields were a rich magnificent green and the wind was just enough of a nuisance to force me to keep asking gentle Leslie to repeat every fascinating word that was coming out of her mouth.

Leslie showed me all sorts of things. What I had assumed was a simple field of grain was a complicated botanical community. She kept moving the grass aside with her tall rubber boots, examining the different foliage. Bending over, and poking around, pulling at blades of grass, pointing out hidden flowers and all the while gently describing things to me like a surgeon who is slicing down into someone’s cancer ridden body, cutting and clamping and detailing everything he sees. Fascinating!

Eventually we found the spot where the moss covered field HAD been. We hunted until we found bits and traces of moss – nothing more. This is no longer a wetland. We also saw the evidence of tractor tire marks – tell tale herringbone patterns that had reshaped the slightly moist and hardened mud. ON top of that was a struggling crop: oats and a few other grains that horses crave. It was a no brainer; someone had drained and cultivated the marshy oasis to plant crops. They had shredded the precious moss again and again.

My take away from that morning hike is the wonder that is in a field of grain. I had no idea that so much was there for our observation and pleasure. We uncovered clues to a mystery and saw stories unfold – many stories. I think there are examples of this everywhere we look. Under us… around us … in front of us… LOTS LIES BENEATH!