The Dreams of Ferns
Rooted in the earth
forest ferns long to escape
on the wings of birds.
Early in spring, forest wildflowers steal the show with their pale white blossoms, tucked beneath the trunks of trees and spilling over the woodland paths.
But as spring gives way to summer, the dainty woodland flowers retreat. In their stead comes another, more luxurious wave of green. Ferns of many types assert their dominance and will hold their pride of place until the first hard frost withers their feathered fronds.
I have always loved ferns, whether in the woods or along my garden edges. As you run your fingers along their tender fronds, they seem delicate and easily crushed.
But this is an illusion.
Ferns are very tough plants ,eager to colonize any area with their legions if given the right growing conditions. Even if you trample on them, they bounce right back. Mowing them down will only make them stronger when they return.
And that’s a good thing. For a forest without ferns would be a dismal place. Without their green carpet, the forest would be all sharp edges and hollow echoes.
Like an ancient tribe they have their secrets. They will survive. As they always have. As I pray they always will.