Consider the Sage

I am always fascinated with plants that are able to survive the harsh realities of the upper plains. Rhubarb is perhaps the poster child of such resilience. It is difficult to kill off rhubarb in this area. It may need a little fertilizer to continue its robust nature but other than that it is quite self-sustaining. Our rhubarb plant has been pumping out rhubarb stalks for many years. Its location by the northwest corner of our house, shaded by a juniper shrub, is not exactly prime real estate for most plants. And yet, it thrives. Bring on the pies.

Another plant that is perhaps even more hardy for us is garden sage, Salvia officinalis. Not only is it able to survive a little frost, it actually seems to relish the challenge. Our current plant is in a pot on the deck. We have had snow, freezing rain, sun, no sun and, just to make it interesting, gales of wind in the forty to fifty mile an hour range. Despite the assaults, the plant continues to deliver. Eventually, we will relocate the pot indoors. The plant often gets a little cranky about more desirable conditions and goes dormant until we release it into the outdoors again.

Thanksgiving is a great time to learn from the sage. I am not an expert on the history of this November holiday but I do know the "first" gathering of folks at a harvest feast looked nothing like the Norman Rockwell painting many still aspire to attain. I suspect the first meal included shellfish, given the close proximity to aquatic resources. There was also a good chance venison and a squirrel or two rounded out the protein requirements. And acorn pie may have been the only dessert on the menu. Forget the fancy china and blaring football game. Conversation would have to be the primary entertainment on the menu.

It is the season of holidays and they are like a new jigsaw puzzle we put together each year. Age, marriage, death, divorce and relocations often give us new pieces to work with as we put together another gathering. The Thanksgiving picture of my youth looks very different from my current holiday scenes. There was a time when my extended family squeezed around tables laden with turkey, ham and all the trimmings. The youngest kids were left to their own devices at the kiddie table. A full belly was the common denominator, sprinkled with a lot of laughter.

Many years later, my husband and I often joined my mother at her assisted living facility. We gathered with her community for a family style holiday meal, memory and good hearing optional. We got to meet some of her friends and a few of their family members in the process. And we always had a full belly when we left.

Perhaps that is where the lesson of the sage becomes clear. Despite the changes thrown at the pale green plant, it continues to thrive and survive. It doesn't expect perfect conditions and there are few paintings exalting its humble existence. It knows its place in the ecosystem and it continues to share its tasty little leaves. No pomp and circumstance necessary.