Life after Death in the World of Nature

A number of plants died in my garden during our hard winter, and it was a pleasure to visit a local nursery over the weekend to buy replacements.

 

I had not appreciated it at the time, but it was a perfect time to do this, over Easter, the new shrubs representing the rebirth of what had died. As I looked at the items that were gone, I saw that without exception all of them were old and, having given beauty and food and cover to man and wildlife for many years, the winter was their opportunity to move on in the knowledge there was new life to take their place.

 

I am particularly conscious now - perhaps because of Easter - of the rites of passage in nature as well as for man, of how everything is transitory but how nothing ends. I look occasionally at the dead sheep outside my fence that I referred to recently: she is still there, looking peaceful and complete, and the only signs of change are the masses of her wool that lies scattered about as birds take advantage of a supply of nesting material. I have even seen a blue tit sitting on her tugging at her coat. Her soul, part of the group soul of sheep, lives on meanwhile, just as every plant that died in my garden or yours lives on too, and will do forever.