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or species of lives are here with me now. All 
are friends. All of us are attracted to this ancient 
wisdom like magnets. Once you latch on and 
connect, you don’t ever want to let go.
To witness and participate in life’s reciprocal 
sharing of giving what you can, never taking more 
than is needed, opens one to the deepest meanings 
of cooperative symbiosis and living efficiently. 
This vibrant lifestyle bumps around what surely 
must be something close to true sustainability.
I know all those horticulturally correct 
words for this plant life now surrounding 
me and my great grandparents is “unkempt, 
weedy, unruly, and overgrown.” 
But why is it all so perfect and so beautifully 
organized? Why does all this native-life look, 
sound, smell, taste and feel . . . like it’s all 
perfectly in sync? Not only is there such diversity 
of plant life but also look at these incredible 
pollinators and faintly harmonious buzzing 
insect life surrounding me in the ancients. 
You know, our weird European Anglo 
white Protestant language.
I almost said leaf litter. But darn it, sure don’t 
want to send your head sorting through all the 
trash to understand what it means when Grandma 
makes her offerings. Definitely not leaf litter, as 
was once taught to be horticulturally correct. Man, 
do we ever have some unlearning to do? That’s 
the hardest part for our people, isn’t it? But that’s 
definitely where it feels like we are right now.
Keeping an old chair out here, I come to 
sit with these ancients when I can.
Looking straight up between them, they’re still 
holding hands. Same as ol’ timey lovers . . . 
just like new lovers always do. They beam 
with tender care for each other and all life that 
depends on them. Sitting still, looking and seeing, 
listening and learning what she means to become 
such a good ancestor. She and Grandad have 
immersed themselves in a lifetime of giving.
Not sure I can honestly count how many forms 

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