Survival Is the Miracle In All of Us

Lessons from nature on recovering from crisis

Jacki Rigoni
3 min readApr 17, 2020
Photo by Author

“Natural recovery is an ancient miracle.” — California Native Plant Society Fire Recovery Guide

My son, Giovanni, is a treasure finder. He sees things that the rest of us walk right past. Once, in our old house, he was playing with an old ball he found in the back yard. It looked like a tennis ball stripped of its felt, probably forgotten by a dog years ago.

When he said, “Hey, look, Mom, I can pull it with a magnet,” I realized it wasn’t a tennis ball. It was heavy and made of iron. After researching and sending pictures to an archeologist, we found out it was likely late 18th-century Spanish cannon shot.

Last year, Giovanni brought home another treasure from a hike, a wavyleaf soap plant bulb that he planted in our front yard. The leaves got chomped short by deer. Then they crisped brown and died. Giovanni the Gentle-Hearted was crushed.

To our surprise, this spring, his wavyleaf soap plant sprouted from the earth like green fireworks. For his biology class, Giovanni had to document and research a California native plant, and there was this sculptural masterpiece presenting itself as a gift.

Wavyleaf soap plant is a California native fire follower. Photo by Author

We found out that this fascinating plant takes ten years to grow from seed to flower. The flower blooms in the evening, a trait called vespertine, and is open for just one night, pollinated by moths. Indigenous peoples found many uses for the soap plant. Its fist-sized bulb has a white, pliable heart full of saponins used for, among other things, guess what? Washing hands.

Soap plant is a fire follower. I just love that term, fire follower. It’s one of the plants that comes in with aplomb after a fire. There’s a fire follower called whispering bells (that name!), whose seeds can stay in the soil for 100 years waiting for the perfect conditions to bloom. Those conditions come only after fire.

Without fire, our oak chaparral ecosystem becomes more single-specied. And therefore, more fragile. Sounds familiar, huh?

But then a fire sweeps in as a kind of course corrector. It clears the way for the fire followers to thrive. And to bring in healthier diversity. At the same time, some of the older plants also survive the fire. A tree that has had all its leaves or needles singed off can thrive again if its cambium, its inner growth layer, is intact.

“A tree that has had all its leaves or needles singed off can thrive again.”

When Giovanni dug up the soap plant from the dark shadows of trees and replanted it in the open of our yard, he inadvertently replicated what happens in a fire. It clears out the underbrush and overstory to grant access to more sunlight. The leaves get wavier the more sunlight they receive. His soap plant’s undulating edges are glorious.

“Some of us may have our needles burnt off, but our inner growth layer survives.”

Photo by Author

During times of devastation, it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that natural recovery is an ancient miracle innate in all of us. Some of us may have our needles burnt off, but our inner growth layer survives to pull us through, stronger and more experienced than ever. Others may encounter a new sunlight in which to thrive. Still others, the whispering bells, have been waiting for the perfect conditions and will bloom.

These lessons of crisis are all around us. While some of us will walk right past them, the gentle-hearted among us will be able to spot the treasures and bring them home.

--

--

Jacki Rigoni
Jacki Rigoni

Written by Jacki Rigoni

Poet Laureate of Belmont, California. Author of “Seven Skirts,” forthcoming in fall 2020.