But those tender white rhizomes cannot make their way across a
highway or a parking lot. When a patch of sweetgrass was lost to
the plow it could not be replenished by seed from outside. Daniela
has revisited many places where historical records show
sweetgrass once lived, more than half of which no longer carry its
fragrance. The major cause of decline seems to be development,
native populations eliminated by wetland draining, converting wild
places to agriculture and pavement. As nonnative species come in,
they may also crowd out the sweetgrass—plants repeating the
history of their people.
In nursery beds back at the university, I’ve been growing up a
stock of sweetgrass, waiting for this day. I had searched far and
wide for a grower who could sell us plants to begin the nursery and
finally located an operation in California that had some. This
seemed odd, since Hierochloe odorata does not occur naturally in
California. When I asked about where their planting stock came
from, I got a surprising answer: Akwesasne. It was a sign. I bought
it all.
Under irrigation and fertilizer, the beds have grown thick. But
cultivation is miles removed from restoration. The science of
restoration ecology depends upon myriad other factors—soil,
insects, pathogens, herbivores, competition. Plants are seemingly
equipped with their own sense about where they will live, defying
the predictions of science, for there is yet another dimension to
sweetgrass’ requirements. The most vigorous stands are the ones
tended by basket makers. Reciprocity is a key to success. When
the sweetgrass is cared for and treated with respect, it will flourish,
but if the relationship fails, so does the plant.
What we contemplate here is more than ecological restoration; it
is the restoration of relationship between plants and people.
grace
(Grace)
#1