The Guardian
by Jason Godesky
You have heard the tales of when our Grandfathers went mad, yes? Well, back then there were two twins, a girl named Ivy, and her twin brother. Ivy was a trickster and a shapeshifter, but when she saw the destruction the Grandfathers had wrought in their madness, she grew incensed.
She went to the Grandfathers and scolded them, saying, “Can you not see what you are doing?” But they were under Grass’s spell, and all they said was, “Yes, isn’t it beautiful? All that forest that was just going to waste, now it’s all beautiful Grass!”
So next Ivy went to Grass, and demanded, “What have you done? You know that humans are not Grass like you, why would you make them like you?” Grass laughed and sighed, and told Ivy to go away; the Cow had his Beloved, the mighty Oak had Squirrel, and flowers had their bees. Why shouldn’t Grass finally have an animal at its beck and call?
The next morning, some of the Grandfathers walked out to one of the fields they had dug up so the Grass would grow, and they found a strange new plant growing along its perimeter. “What is this?” they asked, and they investigated it. Soon after, they were covered in a red, uncomfortable rash that itched severely. That night, as they writhed in agony, Ivy appeared before them.
“The plant was me,” Ivy confessed, “and I gave you this rash. Wherever you turn up the soil, I will grow, and I will guard that land until it has had time to heal from the damage you have done. Wherever you harm the living soil that is the foundation of all life, I will spring up to ward you off, to guard it and watch over it until it has had time to heal. If you try to violate that space, you will brush up against my leaves, and where I touch you I will afflict you as I have now. If you try to gather me up and burn me, the smoke will stop up your lungs and kill you. I stand against you, and I will see to it that the land you wound has time to heal.”
For this, the mad Grandfathers called her “Poison Ivy,” but those who could see through that to her true purpose respected her fierce spirit, and called her the Guardian, honored the task she had taken up, and respected the boundaries she drew. Wherever the Guardian grows, she protects a land that is healing, and that is a place to avoid. Sometimes she can still be a trickster and a shapeshifter, changing her shape slightly and deliberately, so you must always be on the lookout for her.
Field Guide
Find more about the Guardian from:
- [[Poison ivy|REWILD.info Field Guide]]
- Plants for a Future
- Wikipedia
- USDA PLANTS Database
Oral cultures don’t memorize facts and figures about thousands of edible and medicinal plants. They learn stories—stories about the personalities and powers of plants, how they relate to each other, to the world, and to the people who seek them out. Here, we’re starting some new stories about our rediscovered friends.
- Last Week: The Cow’s Beloved
- Next Week: The Healer
Here is something I would have added into the conversation between Ivy and Grass:
Ivy: The partnership between the cow and its beloved does not throw the world out of balance the way you and your partnership with humanity does!
Grass: I revel in catastrophe, so it stands to reason that the animal who falls under my spell will create lovely catastrophe, again and again and again everywhere, catastrophe omnipresent and everlasting!
Comment by venuspluto67 — 17 July 2007 @ 1:22 PM
See, now you’re getting too much into the Sacred Stories, and those mustn’t be told out of season. You’ll have to wait until winter; otherwise, Grass might hear us talking about him and become offended.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 17 July 2007 @ 1:59 PM
You know, around here I rarely see Ivy in worked land, I usually see it in the woods amongst 50 year old trees. I also don’t see anything in the pfaf description that indicates that it is a catastrophe plant. Where do you get that from?
Comment by JimFive — 17 July 2007 @ 2:09 PM
Poison ivy grows in disturbed soil, no? Not catastrophic, but along the edges of catastrophic damage. That’s where I’ve always seen it, and that’s the description I’ve always read, too: disturbed soil.
Comment by Jason Godesky — 17 July 2007 @ 2:12 PM
But they were under Grass’s spell, and all they said was, “Yes, isn’t it beautiful? All that forest that was just going to waste, now it’s all beautiful Grass!”
The number of times I’ve heard variants on that from people talking about how restoring Britain’s forests would be destructive because of our “beautiful pastoral landscape”. STAB STAB STAB.
Comment by Vashti — 17 July 2007 @ 2:19 PM
When I first read it, I thought “Huh, he forgot to name the twin brother.” Then I realized that we’ll learn about him later. Now I wonder whether he will be poison oak or jewelweed. I’m putting my chips on jewelweed: more variety for the stories. Plus maybe he will help mitigate her anger for those willing to learn the lore of the herbs.
Comment by Rix — 18 July 2007 @ 10:17 AM
Many tasty edibles are found in disturbed soil: greens, docks, wild carrot, berries, medicinal herbs… I wonder how that will tie in with the story.
Comment by raku — 18 July 2007 @ 4:48 PM
Disturbed soil is healing, and that’s part of why so many such plants grow there, because they’re healing plants. But the Guardian watches over them, too, so you have to be careful; as delicious and helpful as they are, other plants touched by the Guardian can be very dangerous.
But the Guardian also had a twin brother….
Comment by Jason Godesky — 18 July 2007 @ 4:54 PM
I’ll bet this distant relative of the Magnolia has an interesting story behind it. And I’m not just talking about the mature flowers; this one has been a very useful and far less destructive partner to humans for millenia, probably even predating civilization.
Comment by venuspluto67 — 18 July 2007 @ 7:11 PM
Pfft…..
Have you heard the tale of when the world was consumed with a burning poison? Back so far, that no-one can quite imagine it, the creatures lived gentle, peaceful lives gathering their energy from the rocks or modestly from the mother sun. Then the evil cyanobacteria invaded everywhere, taking control of most of the energy, and spewing forth their corrosive waste products. This upset the ancient natural balance. The gentle creatures of the earth fought as best they could, but none of their efforts could overcome the burning tide of waste, so they retreated to the inhospitable margins. But a prophesy foretells that eventually the world will be once again freed from the tyranny of the cyanobacteria. Anyone got a spare billion years or so?
Comment by Void_genesis — 23 July 2007 @ 3:27 AM
nice - here’s another story about that beautiful ivy:
http://www.herbcraft.org/poisonivy.html
Comment by jim mcdonald — 16 August 2007 @ 9:18 PM
hah, jim, you’re too funny…. I already gave Jason your link in the comments of the other ivy story on here… ah well, the world is full of spirals and circles, is it not?
Comment by Kiva Rose — 16 August 2007 @ 9:37 PM