It was mid-April. My daughter, my sister, and I were enjoying the afternoon walking around Seattle’s Washington Park Arboretum, a large, wooded area of 230 acres with trails and walkways cutting back and forth and up and down.
We’d all been there many times and seen how it had changed over the years. And yet, I had my heart set on finding a particular spot I remembered that was particularly good for a photo. No luck. Maybe it was the season, or we’d taken a different path, or maybe I just missed it. Year after year, the staff grooms and changes and adds new plants and trees to the arboretum. On this visit we noticed a relatively new section of plants from New Zealand, plants the sign told us, that existed on an ancient continent hundreds of millions of years ago.
Another new addition: They’re trying out a “composting restroom.” I used it, and gave it a big thumbs up.
Everywhere we walked we saw beauty and people enjoying themselves. The azaleas and magnolias were in full bloom and the ferns were fresh and green. The rhododendrons were late, though, later than they were in my neighborhood at least. I blamed it on the evergreens which were taller than ever and cast more shade on the other plants than they did the year before.
The site of the arboretum was logged in the 1880s by the Puget Mill Company. It took 140 years for the small to medium-sized trees they left behind to grow into the huge trees they now are. The tallest is 139 feet high.
By the time we left the park, it was after four, and we were hungry. We drove across the Montlake Bridge toward University Village and stopped to eat at Mamma Melina Ristorante and Pizzeria. It was a short ride, scenic and familiar.
Most days I look at the world around me as though it’s basically stable, a few changes but all of them gradual, most for the better. I’d lived in the Seattle area off and on since college, so I knew that the beautiful Collegiate-Gothic-Style drawbridge and the Lake Washington Ship Canal we crossed were old. By West Coast standards, that is.
Nineteen twenty was before my time, so I didn’t know off the top of my head about the football fans who had to cross on a walkway made of a series of barges to get to the Washington/Dartmouth game that year. The bridge we passed over wasn’t completed until 1925.
The canal is a more complex story. Still, most Seattleites know that it wasn’t always there and have some idea what an enormous undertaking it must have been to build the eight-mile-long ship canal that connects Lake Washington to Puget Sound and how much it changed the landscape of the city. The project was proposed as early as 1854 by Thomas Mercer, but it took until 1934 to complete it. If you think about it, a project like that must have involved a lot of planning, cooperation, time, work, and money.
So why the sad thoughts?
I couldn’t get Ukraine out of my mind. After seeing the gradual changes at the arboretum and then driving through lovely neighborhoods that had become what they were through generations of work and planning, I couldn’t help remembering the scenes I’d been seeing of Ukrainian cities turned to rubble. Generations of Ukrainians worked to build those cities and towns, and millions of people used to make their lives there. They must have thought, like I did, that their homes and cities would always be there for them.
It’s so sad to think how easy it is to destroy and how quickly and cruelly it can be done!
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Yes, I share your sad thoughts about the Ukraine and what it could mean for us. I balance my concern for the welfare of the people living under attack from an aggressive enemy with the realization that I am moving forward with remodeling projects in my seemingly safe suburban life. It’s a privilege to do so that is in harsh contrast to the destruction I see in the Ukraine.
You’re right. Balance is the important thing. Fortunately, we’re able to do and feel two or more things at once. My concern for Ukraine doesn’t detract from my gratitude for my own life, my pleasure in the beauty of springtime or my delight in my granddaughter’s engagement and wedding plans. Best wishes on your remodeling.
The NW in springtime is so beautiful. Almost makes me miss it 😉
When I lived in the tropics, I heard people say, “I miss the seasons.” I never did. But I have to admit, the unpleasantness of winter does make spring more beautiful.
You’ve written this beautifully, Nicki. Who would have predicted that we would still be looking at destruction, agression and loss of life in Ukraine? Though when we dig deeper we realise that some of this has gone on since 2014, and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. It’s horrific to watch and contemplate, and much easier to live in our own beautiful bubble- as I confess I often do. I know from first hand that buildings can be reconstructed- Warsaw being a prime example- but the impact on lives and families, not so easy to repair. It’s beyond sad.
Apartments and office buildings and houses can be rebuilt, but it takes time and money. Historic structures are even harder. I’m thinking now of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and how much effort the restoration requires. I’ve read that Manila was the second most destroyed city during WWII. One of the seemingly permanent victims of that war was the trees. We lived in Manila for 15 yrs., and I only saw large old trees on one street. I heard that the city used to have many. Of course the harm done to people during war is worse. The lives of the orphans and widows will never be the same, and the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers may never forget the pain of loss.
Knowing all that, the world is still beautiful and we can still love and rejoice in our lives even as we pray for peace.
Beautiful description of the Arboretum, but a timely & apt link to the current horrific events in the Ukraine. As Autumn said, feeling gratitude for the beauty and all that we can when placed against the stark contrast of current affairs can be a tricky balance, especially when you live with the shadow of depression. My other half has learned to listen on those occasions when I call “enough” to his desire to discuss world news & politics. It can sometimes be too much for me to handle, and I need to prevent myself from going into a downward spiral as they’re hard to climb out of. I used to get enormously frustrated with myself for needing it, but have learned to accept it.
We all have a different tolerance for “the news,” and I agree that we need to know when to step back from it. The plight of the people in Ukraine is definitely a serious downer. I wouldn’t recommend to anyone letting their sympathies lead them into a downward spiral. And I’m really sorry if this post contributed to anyone’s depression.
In writing this little post, I was thinking also from the viewpoint of appreciation. The two-hundred-year-old tree doesn’t simply show up there to provide my shade. It’s been growing all that time. And the city I may take for granted didn’t appear by magic. Sometimes considering how easy it is to destroy what we have may help us value it.
There are some news stories I walk away from, those that look hopeless, at least at the present time. One in the United States is gun control.
You have a soul sadly lacking in the Kremlin. In that many acres it is no wonder you couldn’t find what you were looking for but you produced some good pictures of it.
You’re right, Derrick. It is a big park, not as easy to find your way around as I thought, especially with the seasonal changes.
I have to admit you had me puzzled when you started with the sad thoughts, Nicki. I was into all those lovely scenes of old Seattle but it hit me hard at the end when you brought up the Ukraine. The scenes of destruction we are seeing so many buildings in Kiev and Mariupol destroyed and the trees and landscape around them, it’s sickening. And for what? So a crazy person can exert his power? An atrocity and a waste!
Of course, the worst thing is the loss of life. But there are other serious losses. After a house burns down or a business is destroyed during a tornado, you hear comments like, “I can’t believe it. I worked all my life to be able to afford this house or build up this business.” Looking around our cities, we can see how much love and work went into building them over the years. Those Ukrainian cities won’t be that easily replaced. Even nature takes years, sometimes decades to come back.
I know what you mean about thoughts of Ukraine. It seems surreal sometimes that we can be doing such ordinary, pleasant things while on the other side of the world there are people fighting to stay alive and free. Guilt can walk over our souls for things we had nothing to do with and in reality can’t change if we tried.
It is surreal. It’s hard to imagine something like that when the world in front of our eyes is so real. I don’t think of it so much as guilt as of caring about our fellow humans. I’m so glad the Eastern Europeans, especially the Poles have been doing so much to help the refugees. There’s also much we can do to help through groups like the UN Refugee Agency, UNICEF, CARE, Mercy Corps, the Ukrainian Red Cross, etc.
There is always something “sad” going on in the world. People everywhere fail to live up to our “social contract.” They shoot random strangers at a store in Buffalo. They invade neighboring countries causing carnage. They “poison the well” due to greed and avarice.
I choose to “do what I can with what I have where I am.” If I can help someone I do. If I can’t, I hope that someone else can.
And then I go out and soak up some nature. Nature nurtures. Peace be with you.
During much of human history, you only knew what was going on in your village. So that’s all they needed to worry about. Now we know about problems in every corner of the world. No one person can solve all those problems, nor can one follow and be sorry about each of them. So what should we do? Obviously it’s different for each person, and the world needs all kinds. There have always been contemplatives and hermits. The Chinese taoists write of shaking the “yellow dust” of the cities off and going into the mts. Catholic saints and mystics chose to spend extended time shut off from the world in their monasteries. On maybe the other extreme, you have people like Ghandhi and Martin Luther King who saw a problem and set out to change the situation. Most of us are in between. We’re grateful for the beauty of the world and of our own lives, but we also care about the world’s problems–not all of them. Who can do that? And we try to find suitable ways to help. Some of the sad things going on in the world touch our hearts more than others. I don’t think that can be helped.
I hear you. I’m constantly aware of how much can be changed in an instant.
Sometimes it’s a wake up call to be grateful. Sometimes, those thoughts spiral into depression.
It’s a tricky tightrope to walk. The fires in CA are frightening and sad. And yet, life is so rich and beautiful and sometimes fun.
I have had those same thoughts over the last couple of months. Your post is a wonderful remembrance of how lucky we are but yet with a mixture of emotions.
Thank you, Jeri. The older we get, the more we become used to a mixture of emotions.
Ukraine is sad but always a story of resilience. So much damaged and so many lives lost for such a useless war.
I think the courage and resilience of the Ukrainians is one of the reasons the world is so captivated with their story. A sad story can be just sad and hopeless. But the Ukrainians seem to be making it a story in which we can hope for a happy ending.
A very poignant post, Nicki. It is sad how quickly and cruelly we destroy all for the sake of a fleeting grasp of power.
I enjoyed your photos as usual. Thank you for sharing them. That composting restroom project looks . . . interesting. I wouldn’t want to staff that project.
You know, I got the feeling that the composting restroom would be no problem for the people who worked with it. I couldn’t smell anything from inside or outside. Here are the layers that are too small to read: composting waste (on top), then Reas to ammonia to nitrate, then mineralization, then further mineralization, then finished compost on the bottom, a dry compost material. It uses solar power to heat it in the process. There’s a ventilation pipe that can keep the smell out of the bathroom while providing enough oxygen for the compost to break down. By the time it’s done, I imagine it’s as good or better than anything you’d find at your local nursery.