Good Friday, while on a walk at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, I watched a controlled burn -- fire deliberately set around Meadow Lake, burning away last fall's dried grass and weeds, turning the earth black and covering it with ash.
The burn -- the bright blue sky, the orange flames, the brown smoke and then the white -- seemed sacred.
Perhaps it's because everything seems sacred on that holy day -- so dark as we tick off the slow suffering hours Jesus was on the cross, yet so lit with that word of theological judgment: Good.
Watching at a distance, we could see the progress of the burn around the pond. At our feet there was blackened soil -- yesterday's burning, or perhaps last week's? -- dark crowns of plants and bits and slivers of new, faint green shoots. In the distance a trail of workers in their yellow fireproof suits curved around the lake, setting the fire and controlling it as it burned out. A small truck with a tank followed slowly, just in case. We watched as a tall stand of grass flared up suddenly sending bright orange flames ten or twelve feet into the sky. Very exciting, especially for the two small boys standing in front of us with their mother.
We burn away the brush, the waste, the invasive stuff to give the new shoots a chance to thrive. And yet those new shoots come from old roots. In our lives it's seldom a controlled process. But on this Easter Day, we pray that it turns out to be a good one.
(More about controlled burns in wetlands.)
(Thank you to Lisa for the photo.)
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