Braiding Sweetgrass

Who warmed the house? From bow drill to tinder to fire, it was
Mother Cedar.
When sickness came, the people turned again to her. Every part
is medicine for the body, from the flat sprays of foliage to the
flexible branches to the roots, and throughout there is powerful
spiritual medicine as well. Traditional teachings recount that the
power of cedars is so great and so fluid that it can flow into a
worthy person who leans back into the embrace of her trunk. When
death came, so came the cedar coffin. The first and last embrace
of a human being was in the arms of Mother Cedar.
Just as old-growth forests are richly complex, so too were the
oldgrowth cultures that arose at their feet. Some people equate
sustainability with a diminished standard of living, but the aboriginal
people of the coastal old-growth forests were among the wealthiest
in the world. Wise use and care for a huge variety of marine and
forest resources, allowed them to avoid overexploiting any one of
them while extraordinary art, science, and architecture flowered in
their midst. Rather than to greed, prosperity here gave rise to the
great potlatch tradition in which material goods were ritually given
away, a direct reflection of the generosity of the land to the people.
Wealth meant having enough to give away, social status elevated
by generosity. The cedars taught how to share wealth, and the
people learned.
Scientists know Mother Cedar as Thuja plicata, the western red
cedar. One of the venerable giants of the ancient forests, they
reach heights of two hundred feet. They are not the tallest, but their
enormous buttressed waistlines can be fifty feet in circumference,
rivaling the girth of the redwoods. The bole tapers from the fluted
base, sheathed in bark the color of driftwood. Her branches are
graceful and drooping with tips that swoop upward like a bird in