Plants as Teachers
I have always loved plants—even chose the study of botany as my major in college. Plants have taught me many things over the years, and I look to them now for wisdom in these perilous political times. Below are examples of plants from three very different bioregions and the “wisdom” they offer by surviving where they live.
We were recently in Arizona to visit family and attend the Tucson Book Festival with Christina’s new novel, The Beekeeper’s Question.
Classic cactus of the desert—the saguaro with its towering stems capable of storing immense amounts of moisture
Lesson #1 from plants. It is important to have many adaptations for surviving harsh conditions. There is no security of scheduled rains, nor any deep reservoir of water in the sandy soils of the desert. Temperatures in the summer are unthinkably hot. Preservation of water is everything for desert plants. All cactus have needles instead of leaves to reduce evaporation and they store water in their trunks. Plants like creosote bush that keep their leaves year round have waxy, non-evaporating surfaces.
Creosote bush with its evergreen, waxy, pointed leaves is one of the most common plants in the Sonoran desert. photo by Carl Baldwin
While we were visiting Tucson, three tenths of an inch of rain fell. We had the rare opportunity to watch desert plants bloom in response to rain. Ocotillo plants literally went from looking dead to sporting their beautiful red flag blooms in less than 48 hours. Desert cacti plumped up before our eyes. And the creosote bush perfumed the Sonoran desert with its slightly sage, acrid smells.
Ocotillo stems turning from brown to green and beginning to flower 48 hours after a rain
An ocotillo plant in full bloom, including small leaves along the woody, thorny stem. photo by Carl Baldwin
As spring progresses in the desert, the brittle bush blooms, cactus like the cholla and prickly pear sometimes produce flowers, but also reproduce by breaking off pieces that are capable of sprouting in new locations. Photo by Carl Baldwin
Aren’t we just waiting for an opportunity to act to do our part to stem the tide of dismantling democracy currently underway in the U.S.? The right conversation? The right rally or demonstration? Part of our job will be to perceive that an opportunity for communication is presenting itself!
Lesson #2 from Plants Those with deep roots and long history can survive tremendous firestorms. After our return from the desert, we read in the Los Angeles Times that people are taking hope from the fact that some trees are beginning to green up even in neighborhoods where all surrounding homes were burned to the ground in the January 2025 fires
Although I have not been to LA since the fires, it is trees like this alligator juniper with its thick, fire resistant bark that have survived.
“On lots where houses have been reduced to piles of rubble and cars to mangled metal husks, trees rise. These surviving oaks, pines and orange trees are often the only remaining landmarks in a neighborhood, bittersweet reminders of a time before so much tragedy.” March 21, 2025 NY Times article by Soumya Karlamangla
On a recent drive around Altadena, one of the hardest hit neighborhoods, Douglas Kent, a landscape architect who specializes in fire safety, noted older trees of many species seemed to have survived. He expected native trees such as coastal oaks with their thick bark and waxy leaves to do well and was surprised to see highly flammable palm and eucalyptus trees also ahowing signs of life. He attributed that to their deep roots.
If ever there was a model for the relevance of elders, there it is! I am beginning to believe I was born for these times: decades of skill, determination, and experience. I and we are going to survive this firestorm against democracy and provide a model of resilience for those around us.
Lesson #3 from plants Above all else, plants are persistent. It is spring in the northwest corner of the U.S. where I live and it is impossible not to be amazed every day by plants. Daffodils have been in full bloom the entire month of March. The tulips are beginning to open their tightly protected buds. Peonies are rising from the ground. Despite wind, rain, and temperatures barely above freezing, the slowly lengthening days and gradually warming temperatures coax plants into leaves and then blooms.
Tulips, planted for beauty in the front of my garden, take center stage in April.
Peonies just rising will bloom in June
newly emerging asparagus tip
I don’t take my garden plants for granted. Nearly every day I wander out to our little garden to see what is changing in the spring. And just now I see the first tips of asparagus rising from their winter slumber.
Plants don’t give up just because it’s cold. They don’t even give up if there is a late spring snowstorm. They persist in their destiny to bring forth leaves, buds, flowers. It is their role in the great circle of life. And what is our destiny at this time when the very democracy on which we have based our entire lives is being threatened? How do we keep our families, our neighborhoods, our communities together?
These are questions for each of us to explore in our own ways. The answers matter to our souls, our species, and the planet. Let us follow the examples of plants.
Sit a spell, indoors or out, and contemplate what a plant is doing. One thing you cannot see but we all need to remember is that humans and all animals would not exist without plants’ amazing ability to photosynthesize—turn sunlight and carbon dioxide into food.
A manzanita shrub seemingly growing out of pure rock. Found at elevations above the Sonoran desert, this sturdy plant persists, has deep roots, and adapts to challenging conditions. A model for all of us.
As a P.S. from last month’s column on hummingbirds, I highly recommend watching the newly released film on Apple TV: Every Little Thing. A wonderful story about a woman hummingbird rehabilitator in Los Angeles, CA.
Ann. I appreciate your wise and calm ways. Thank you!
Hello Tenneson! Always appreciate your voice and its inherent wisdom. I know you know the desert’s magic. Ann
Oh how I miss the desert we moved here from. As beautiful as it is here, it is equally beautiful in the desert. Thank you for bringing it back home.
Thank you, Bonnie! I have been a long time lover of the desert from years living in Utah and visiting friends and family over the years. The magic of the spring desert is hard to surpass. Blessings, Ann
“If ever there was a model for the relevance of elders…” – words from one the the most relevant elders I know. Thanks for this beautiful education.
With appreciation for your kind words, Ann
I love your comparison between nature and our current state of politics. It is hopeful, but does require us to be active rather than passively observing the chaos and negativity.
Totally agree with you, Sandy! It is a time for action and it is a time for each of us to keep our reserves strong so we can give from a place of strength. Blessings, Ann
I always feel the voice of the earth as I read your words. thank you dear wise friend. Please keep it coming, we need the voices of our relatives more than ever. As Grandma Agnes Baker Pilgrim used to say here in the Rogue Valley: ‘I am a voice for the voiceless.’ Love you…. Anne
Yes, we do need to become voices for the voiceless—the non-human and human. Love, Ann
During the current times, I’m thrilled that you copy me with your knowledge. I have faith in Americans and I believe we will turn the tide in two years.
Thank you, Larry. I also have faith in Americans and us ordinary citizens have a lot to do between now and the 2026 elections. I will be joining the national day of protest tomorrow.Ann
I love this. Thank you, Ann. I always learn stuff from your posts.
With appreciation for your response, Gretchen! I certainly also learn a lot from your posts.