Planting Paul

When people heard what my father’s wishes were, nearly everyone was perplexed —disoriented—so they kept reaching for familiar things—which is understandable.

No obituary? No memorial? What is a “natural burial”? What is a wildway? 

So, no memorial service but you’ll each read something or say something over the grave, right? What about a poem? OK, you’re not going to say or read anything, but you’re going to sing a song, right? Wear something special? Put something special in the grave with him? Lay flowers on the grave? He’ll have a headstone, right? OK, he won’t have a headstone but there will be some kind of marker? A rock? Will you plant anything? So, he’ll be in this wild field full of flowers and young trees, so how do you keep somebody else from being buried on top of him? OK, his body will be gone, digested by the soil organisms, so how will you find that spot again—how will you know where he is?

As it turned out: the digging was the ceremony, carrying the body was the poem, the wind in the ash trees was the song, the changes in the landscape are the obituary being written.

Seeing the beauty and feeling the unleashed energy of self-willed land each time we come here and feeling good that he helped protect the rights of nature is the memorial and how we find where he is. Helping Paul give his atoms back to life helped us realize where we are, helped us realize that Paul is gone, life goes on, not without us, but with us. Biophilia is love that comes back to us. Biocentrism recenters us. These are the things we found thanks to this conservation burial ground. We did not imagine or expect these gifts! Thank you. Simply thank you.

3 June 2022