Don't Judge the Fern by the Fiddlehead

Despite the rain this Saturday, we went in search of a trillium experience.  We were not disappointed.  The rain, it turned out, was warm and the misty air created a sense of mystery as we followed the well worn trail through the mixed hardwood bush.  We walked past the dark green heart shaped leaves of Wild Ginger and the bluish green foliage of Blue Cohosh.  Past the Wild Leeks and Wild Garlic until we found them. Thousands of White Trilliums spread out beneath the trees as far as the eye could see.  We breathed them in like a tonic after a long winter.  They had returned, a little later than usual, but in full force.  Our hearts were filled and our spirits lifted by the sea of white and green.

We kept walking, taking in their beauty and finally paying attention to the other plants as well.  Just beside the path, I saw a little fern unfurling.  It wasn’t the fiddlehead of an ostrich fern and I had trouble identifying it in it’s infant stage.  It was probably a Sensitive Fern judging by the thick middle part of the frond.  It was kind of gangly and misshapen, not the lovely graceful shape of the adult fern.

This reminded my partner of the baby robins in the backyard.  They have indeed hatched and he has been taking pictures of their fuzzy , big beaked, closed eyed heads projecting out of the nest, waiting for regurgitated worms from their parents.  They look nothing like the adult robins who hatched them.

Baby Robin emerging from underneath its mother.

Well, this got me thinking of a video I had watched recently on a new economic idea of circular economics.  You can watch it here. In this two minute video clip, Economist Kate Raworth uses a piece of hose she found in her garden shed to explain how we can work with and within the cycles of the living world to create a circular regenerative economy.  So, check out the video.  If you can’t picture what this might look like when it is all fleshed out, then remember the little fern and the baby robin.  Imagine that this idea could become something concrete and beautiful and don’t judge the fern by the fiddlehead.