Saturday, March 1, 2008

The Huckleberry Bush Who Thought He Was a Tree


As you can plainly see, there is a Huckleberry Bush living at the top of this Snag. (A Snag, as you might know, is a (mostly) dead tree, often missing a top or many if not all of its branches, and serving to support many forest creatures with a place to live or something to eat, as is their wont). It could be easily mistaken for a Decomposing Log, as the sign below explains, but we think the principle difference is in the degree of Verticality, Decomposing Logs being more of a horizontal inclination. For the mathematically-minded, we believe this relationship between Snags and Decomposing Logs could be usefully expressed as an equation, to wit: S = DL + V, or DL = S - V.

Anyhow, we find it particularly gratifying that in the Northwest Woods even Decomposing Logs have their Day in the Sun, at least insofar as a plaque recognizing their services is such.



By the way, the moment when we recognized that a Snag is actually a Decomposing Log standing upright was an epiphany nearly on the order of the moment when we recognized that "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," "Baa-Baa Black Sheep," and "The Alphabet Song" are the exact same melody. How, for nearly half a century, we did not realize that before we cannot say. It reminds us once again how easily desensitized to the Extraordinary we all too often are, and serves to urge us to approach each experience as if it were a new and quite surprising moment. (Although that latter may be why we never saw the connection before this. Hmm, now what do we recommend?)

But to return, this particular Huckleberry Bush thought he was absolutely the Cat’s Pajamas. (Regrettably, we are not sure of the derivation of this phrase, nor can we say with confidence it is a good metaphor. We do, however, very much like the vision below of a particularly high-struttin' feline, and quite imagine the Huckleberry Bush imagines himself equally dashing.)



In a word (not that we have ever limited ourselves to that) the Huckleberry Bush Who Thought He Was a Tree clearly believed he was quite above all other huckleberry bushes, and certainly by virtue of his great height alone he had reason to believe that was true. Other huckleberry bushes in the Northwest Woods grow to be about the height of an average (rather tall) adult person, but this huckleberry bush loomed over even other bona fide trees, and thus convinced himself that he was no ordinary bush: he was a... Tree.

This fact, however, brought him very little joy. It did occur to him that for all his impressive presence his life was quite lonely. Furthermore, he did not have the distinct impression that other huckleberry bushes looked up to him with any appreciable deference or recognition. Even if they had, it would not have been altogether that much consolation in either the best or worst of times, because who wants to be Fabulously Admired but Altogether Alone?

His hubris and his sadness were such that we felt obliged finally, after much discussion among ourselves, to inform him that in fact he was not a tree, and was only towering in his present state owing to the devoted service of the snag beneath him (who, evidently, had “snagged” an errant seed or berry at some point which grew to be the Huckleberry Bush Who Thought He Was a Tree).

It is to the Huckleberry Bush’s credit that rather than being dismayed to discover he was not, nor ever would be, a Legitimate Tree, he was instead greatly cheered by this disclosure. What a coup, he exclaimed, to have landed on that snag. What a gracious offering for such a noble tree as the snag had once been! The Huckleberry Bush Who Thought He Was a Tree was suddenly filled with over-flowing gratitude toward the snag. The snag, in turn, felt deeply gratified to have been, at long last, acknowledged for its service (beyond the requisite plaque, as above, and the standard watch offered upon retirement).

As it happens, to be thought Other Than One Truly Is, no matter how flattering the attributions, can be seriously demoralizing in its own right. Far better, we believe, to face and accept the limitations of one's competencies and to acknowledge gratitude for those whose lives we share.

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