Pollen Path

The evening was a dream. I was lying in the hammock my wife had given me for my birthday, watching twilight set in. Looking up from my woven perch into the slowly darkening sky was making me drowsy, and soothing my senses I was captivated by the varying shades of blue presenting themselves to the small patch of heaven I could see above me. Shades of turquoise, then medium blue satin, then dark blue velveteen rolled in like lazy ocean waves. Each time I closed my eyes, they reopened to darker tones and a richer color saturation.

I was situated on a small strip of grass facing the sharply peaked roof of our house. A brace of towering blue spruce trees shaded my back. To my left, a magnificent old cherry tree spread its over sized branches in a protective embrace. To my right the garage roof blocked the lights of the nearby convenience store. I could just see the full bodied locust tree peering around the edge of the house.

There was a slight, cooling wind causing the tree branches to sway in slow rhythmic motions. The leaves danced on the breeze, making a barely discernible, soothing rustle in the night air. The multitude of small birds that inhabit our desert oasis were whirring about overhead, causing a ruckus and looking to settle in for the night. I could hear my wife digging in the flower bed near the south wall. I was certain Laurie regretted providing me a reason to loaf on summer evenings while she immersed herself in yard work.

My much used excuse of being highly allergic to any form of plant matter is wearing thin. I am pretty sure I gave myself up the other day when I shared my appreciation of a book I have been reading (The Pollen Path, a collection of Navajo myths retold by Margaret Kent ) and the philosophy of life it represents. I had a feeling she might misconstrue my message and somehow use it against me.

I shared a quote with her that I found inspirational, "Remember always to walk in the pollen path of peace and of blessing. Be still within yourself, and know that the trail is beautiful. Whenever you are in danger walk carefully and quietly. Your feet will be blessed with pollen and your hands will be blessed with pollen. Let your mind and your voice go forward on the pollen path." I told Laurie that Steve and I had decided to attempt to walk the pollen path.

Since we live and work with people who appreciate attempts to understand their culture, it seemed a reasonable thing to do. Thus far I have found the path easy to navigate. Since I am a reasonable and easy going fellow, it has not been much of a challenge. Steve, on the other hand, has had to overcome many obstacles in his attempt. He keeps straying from one side of the path to the other, and often falls into the bar ditch, muddying himself in the process.

My dream scene came to an abrupt end as I looked up into the frustrated face of my hard working wife. "Oh! Hi honey, I was just thinking about that pollen path book I have been reading". Laurie looked at me carefully, as if contemplating a thoughtful answer. She said, "Maybe you could follow the path to the garden. It needs watering, and I am sure you will find pollen there." I frowned at her, knowing full well that I had personally given her the ammunition she needed to torpedo my relaxing moment.

Shaking my head in wonder at her well constructed reply and complete lack of sympathy for my relationship with nature, I carefully removed myself from the hammock and moved onto the garden path. I cleared my mind and refrained from voicing an alternate opinion. My pollen path was turning into a rocky, uphill climb.

Laurie followed me into the garden and began weeding as I watered the tomatoes, corn and pumpkins. We started talking about the day's events, and fell into an easy, jocular discussion about who was being bossy and working too hard and who was just plain lazy. Our three children wandered up the path and joined in the conversation. I was soon outnumbered and gave up my defense. Let it known that children will side with their mother whenever they think Dad is picking on her.

As I stood there watching, listening and learning, reality set in and the evening took on a warm, embracing glow. The beauty around me was of a richer, more vibrant nature. There was compassion, caring, understanding, support and above all else, a deep abiding love. All of that, along with the wonders of the natural world, provided me a feeling of belonging, and a sense of being that I could not have imagined earlier.

It seems that whether you are seeking the pollen path or stumble onto the garden path, family plays an important role in making the journey a success; dreams and reality seem to merge when you walk these trails.

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