Survivor Count

I recently went on a search for survivors. It had been a brutal journey that had begun in the harsh conditions of winter, or what was left of it, the previous year. The time the survivors had been in the ground now was 12 months. They had endured the trying dryness of summer with its blistering heat; and had at least one or two good spells under water over the course of a very wet winter. My job this day was to see how many of the trees that I planted last year were still alive and ready to grow this year. It was bad enough that a seedling had to survive being transplanted from the nursery beds to the real world, where upon being replanted they would have to again establish their roots. Plus, here in the wild, they had to overcome other obstacles that would make even a mature tree wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Rabbits and deer love to chew on young, emerging seedlings. Insects and weevils wait patiently on the side for their chance. If the seedling makes it past the initial browse stage, here comes a buck deer looking for something to rub with its antlers. And of course, let’s not forget the beavers. Yes, for a tree to survive in the natural world in which they live, it would almost seem that the Creator would have to step in and set up some ground rules every now and then. How else can you explain finding four seedlings that had been nib- bled to the bud, only to have the fifth seedling, just a few feet away, growing like crazy with no damage at all? That of course was why I was there in the first place. If you know that in the future you are going to need some wood, some lumber if you will, then you should be about protecting your seedlings today.

As I was searching, I began to think of another time long ago, when someone knew they were going to have to have some lumber. I wondered if they took any special steps to make sure that the seedling would eventually make it to the lumber yard…

It was a beautiful fall day, just a bit cold. She was tired, the weight of so many leaves pulling down her branches. It was with some disappointment that she watched the seed fall, sort of a mixture of embarrassment and sadness. It wasn’t the first one to have left her branches, but this one was different. With a sigh, rustling her leaves, she mumbled softly, “I have done my part.”

A trio of squirrels scurried about. They had so much activity to squeeze into so little daylight. With the shortening of the days came the distant call of winter, and with it, hunger. The time to store up food was now, with not a minute to lose. One of the squirrels came upon the newly cast nut. He contemplated it, studying it silently.

“Let’s go, let’s go, you can’t just sit and stare, pick it up and get it to the nest,” came the call from one of his companions. He just stared. It would be so easy, he thought, “To just take a bite, and end this whole thing once and for all. It would be better, everyone would agree, or to take it to his nest…but with a sigh, he picked up the nut and began to walk away, out towards a small opening in the forest. His companions called after him, reminding him of where the nest tree was, but he simply continued his journey. He came to a spot, a lovely spot indeed, and doing what he was so good at, began to dig a small hole. When the hole was complete, he carefully pushed in the nut, and covered it over with the fresh dirt. Without any energy or enthusiasm, he turned to rejoin his friends. “I have done my part,” he said softly.

The days passed; winter became spring. A small sprout broke out of the dirt mound in the small opening. It was green and full of life. A group of deer were browsing nearby. A hard winter had left them hungry and any shoot of green was a welcomed addition to their diet. The lead doe came to the little sprout and with a start looked about. A look of under- standing began to cross her face. It would be a tasty treat, she thought, and it would certainly be justified. But no, she had to let it pass. She led her group around and past the little sprout. It would not be breakfast today or any other day. “That’s our part,” she told her group as they drifted off into the forest.