We Want It Both Ways, Yet Can’t Have It

Al Campbell was on vacation this week.
If the average person is conflicted, is it any wonder? We want to save the world, but not at great cost to us. We want cars that use less carbon fuel, yet don’t want less performance. We want renewable energy, but adamantly refuse to let a neighbor put up a wind turbine.
We want smarter children and less crime. We want lower taxes and yet more government service. We want the Gospel preached, but not if it means changing our personal way of life.
Ah, the woe, we want that big piece of coconut butter cream cake with a cherry on top, but we don’t want to gain weight eating it. What a dilemma. Is it any wonder analysts are busy folks?
The notion of “going green” has bitten me since I went to the county’s Earth Day celebration on that windy day at the County Park on April 17. Am I alone walking away from there feeling a tinge of guilt for over consuming, yet paying lip service to save the Earth for my grandchildren and their grandchildren?
To her credit, Barbara Ernst, the county’s division director of Farmland Preservation and Open Space, engaged me in conversation about beach plums. That subject was dear to me, since I had covered happenings of the Cape May County Beach Plum Association.
She had three piles of sticks, which I joked to her, “Are they part of farmland?”
She said it is the goal of the Association to plant beach plums throughout Cape May County. Someday, she said, it is hoped that this peninsula will be widely known for its abundance of beach plum producers.
She asked if I would like to plant some beach plums? Before I could say “no,” (I’m not a joiner, that’s why I’m a registered Independent. Go ahead, check my voter registration.) Ernst fetched two of the pitiful-looking twigs and stowed them in a plastic bag. Along with the gifts, she included two pages on how to plant and take care of them.
Just down from Ernst’s display was the Beach Plum Association’s exhibit with beautiful white blossoms on beach plum branches. Tucked away in the back of my mind was the taste of beach plum jam on hot, buttered toast. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had any, and all of a sudden, I wished those twigs in my camera bag would produce fruit next week.
See, there I go, being conflicted. At first, I didn’t want to accept two little beach plum twigs, and a moment later, all I could think of was the fruit of the branches I was holding.
Dutifully, I went into the back yard and, spade in hand, planted both twigs. Since then, they appear to be thriving, still no beach plums, but they will come, years down the road, if they survive.
Six days ago, Arbor Day slipped into history for another year.
It, too, conflicts us many times.
When my son, Scott, was four years old, I remember grabbing four wee pine sprigs, and shoving them in the ground so we could say we planted something on Arbor Day.
Well, now, over three decades later, I am again conflicted, wondering why on earth I ever planted those pine trees. They are big and beautiful, yes, but they loom over the house, and last winter, during the blizzard, some big branches fell away.
Fortunately, they didn’t hit the house. “Why did you plant them?” I ask myself. I then go into self-blame mode, realizing I’m the one who planted those huge trees, and now I wish they were not there.
Why aren’t pine trees like sequoia trees that grow tall and don’t get infected with Southern Pine Beetles that cause them to die before their time, and eat away all their bark? Why aren’t they like apple trees that produce something we can eat? Why didn’t I plant beach plums over 30 years ago instead of pine trees? Such conflicts drive a man to distraction.
You won’t have the pleasure of reading this column next week. I will be on vacation, again, pondering life’s meaning, and the ultimate fate of those trees.
I leave you with this thought from the Old Farmer’s Almanac about J. Sterling Morton, who created National Arbor Day on April 10, 1872.
He had a dream and vision, like many of us, but he was not conflicted about how to bring it to fruition. He acted, which is what many of us do not to with ideas that could be helpful to our future generations.
He did not have a conflict with his vision, how fortunate for us.
“As editor of the Nebraska City News, Julius Sterling Morton proposed the first statewide Arbor Day for April 10, 1872. Over 1 million trees were planted on that day.
“Today Arbor Day is celebrated on the last Friday of April, although many states alter the date for local growing seasons.
“Arbor Day is not like other holidays. Each of those reposes on the past, while Arbor Day proposes for the future.”
– J. Sterling Morton