Bamboo Grove

Last year after a heavy snowfall , my black bamboo folded their thick leafy heads down to touch the ground. I waited all day until the snowfall stopped. In the twilight I carried a garden rake to stand underneath the bending branches. The snowfall cast white light and muted all sounds except for the dripping sounds from overhead.

Standing to my knees in the wet snow which nightfall was threatening to turn to ice , I worked the rake under the arched branches and pushed up hard. A few feet of snow cascaded off the branches and threatened to topple me over as well.

The bamboo stood up about 4 feet , still weighted over but waking like sentient giants. I scrambled in deeper to their base , dug my feet into the snow , raised the rake and pushed hard once more. Another avalanche of wet snow slid off the higher branches to reward me with their immediate response like saluting soldiers. One more push with the rake let them stand up higher but not to their former straightness. It was enough.

With a large rope today , I worked around the whole circumference of their black stalks to tie them to the thick trunk of the photinia tree. I leaned back to tighten the slack and tied a slip knot first, then once again with a more secure knot.

Here I sat then , to rest and admire the towering black bamboo married to the red topped evergreen photinia tree with its strong gnarly trunk. Satisfied that they would support each other if it snows this year. Sometimes it just rains here on Vancouver Island but I have readied them for whatever may fall.

I remembered a snowy winter past when a single otter played in the slope behind my house. She slid down the hill on her back and did it numerous times as I watched from my window thrilled by her merryment. An acclimated creature , demonstrating joy.

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