Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Life, defiant


Thanks to Hurricane Wilma, large chunks of the rich canopy that defined so many lush neighborhoods in southern Florida were simply - and in some cases, brutally - stripped away.

On the surface, it was sad to see. Our memories of previous visits were filled with huge trees with thick layers of leaves, flowering plants of impossible color and a constant feeling that the landscape was always just one step removed from being completely overgrown. Seeing huge expanses of open sky over sun-baked and broken earth where a shady grove of trees once stood was a bit tough to take at first.

But anyone with enough patience to slow down and look more closely would often be rewarded with a front-row seat to a miracle that's been playing out since the beginning of time.

Here and there, tiny vestiges of life emerged from the monochromatic landscape. I found this one by the beach, and was immediately convinced that the passage of time, coupled with the planet's unstoppable wish to perpetuate life, would return the lush landscape to its former splendor.

Sure, more storms and natural disasters will threaten the view in the years to come. And today's new greenery may be summarily destroyed in the process. But the never-ending rhythms of our world will ensure any scorched earth will be strictly temporary in nature.

It's a comforting thought.

13 comments:

surcie said...

After Hurricane Katrina hit, I was glued to television news coverage. It was so upsetting. But somehow, I was encouraged by the fact that so many mighty oak trees were still standing. They were brutally battered, stripped of leaves and even bark, but they were there--even when absolutely nothing else was.

Karen said...

That's a very cool picture. It's also a very cool way to look at the rebuilding of the southeast after Katrina. You must be a "glass half-full" kind of guy.

Have a great day!

Shelli said...

I have always noticed that in just a matter of days after we have had a grass fire nearby that the grass always comes in greener and more lush than ever. It is like a promise that life will always go on.

Jef said...

One of the things we have in common is looking for details around us that most people miss. It's so rewarding to see the small splash of color that is almost washed out by the monochromatic background or the dramatic shapes that are hidden among busy landscapes.

Sam I Am said...

Came across your blog by way of lady on the hill,nice reads,thanks you for sharing .

L said...

gorgeous!

Tammy said...

Beautiful picture, as always.

I live in an area that was very hard hit by Hurricane Charley in 2004. I still find it strange to drive in some areas...parts of town that had no land left are now filled with empty lots. To say nothing of houses that are still being gutted and rebuilt.

Corey Amaro said...

I always smile when I see a flower growing out of the tinest crack in the sidewalk.
Thank you for capturing how 'life continues to continue' regardless of the odds

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

BEAUTIFUL Photograph Carmi..ALWAYS, you take the most wonderful pictures! I agree with you that given less than half a chance...Nature will syrvive and thrive, in spite of..
I'm here from Michele today but I love visiting you any time...

If you get a chance, go by my blog..I have some nice photo's but one at the bottom of my most recent oist that I think will please you...I hope so, anyway.(lol)

Plain Jane said...

I have a "life, defiant" photo as well... although I think yours is much more colorful!

Photo here

Mellie Helen said...

Hence the popularity and longevity of the phrase, "Hope springs eternal." This pic is beautiful, and speaks of defiance and victory, in a gentle, elegant, yet powerful way. Encouraging!

chronicler said...

This is the type of photo and story I'd like to see. I would have posted it on the previous post but I could bear to break the magic to pieces. Your post was posted at 11:11 and there are 11 comments. oooooooeeeeeoooooo!

Michael Manning said...

In Biology class in 1999, the professor spoke of regeneration and adapting in this respect. How true. In the Industrial Age, Moth's adapted to tree bark intrinsically to avoid detection by enemies. Thanks for such a cool reminder!