Dante Remy
Let’s consider the poem Fern, by Ted Hughes.
Here is the fern’s frond, unfurling a gesture, Like a conductor whose music will now be pause And the one note of silence To which the whole earth dances gravely – A dancer, leftover, among crumbs and remains Of God’s drunken supper, Dancing to start things up again. And they do start up – to the one note of silence. The mouse’s ear unfurls its trust. The spider takes up her bequest. And the retina Reins the Creation with a bridle of water. How many went under? Everything up to this point went under. Now they start up again Dancing gravely, like the plume Of a warrior returning, under the low hills, Into his own kingdom.
Listen. Do you hear that? It’s the mystical melody of the Fern resonating through the eons. What makes this plant so enchanting? Ah, it is the very essence of life itself. It nourishes civilizations, sustains our hunger, and weaves the tapestry of culture and existence. So let us delve deeper into the ethereal realm of the Fern.
When you stumble upon a Fern during a leisurely stroll or amidst a verdant meadow, perhaps bursting forth from a weathered crack in ancient walls, you are encountering a primordial being. A plant so ancient, it has been fossilized in time, yet continues to thrive in our world. It has endured countless trials throughout the ages, persevering through the tumultuous tides of history to linger among us today, even hidden within the coal we burn to power our lives. Much of our planet is said to be composed of decomposed plant matter, and a significant portion of that is the remnants of ancient ferns that once lined the edges of marshes and swamps. Now, encased in water and mud, they have transformed into precious fuels that sustain us in the present.
Depending on the season, ferns unveil varying forms of breathtaking beauty, each one deserving heartfelt contemplation. First, there is the rhizome, the very root system that sprouts and extends with each passing year. Then, we encounter the stipe or petiole, a noble stem devoid of leaves that carries the weight of the entire plant. And there, in all its magnificence, lies the frond—the epitome of the fern. The frond encompasses the stem, the stipe, along with a myriad of leaves and their exquisite variations. Finally, we have the pinnae or leaflets, delicate individual leaves adorned with tiny dots, resembling seeds. These dots are in fact spores, destined to spread far and wide, perpetuating the fern’s legacy across the millennia. They nestle into cracks and crevices, finding sanctuary in the most peculiar of places, eternally spreading and perpetuating the existence of this wondrous plant.
For many, ferns are synonymous with mature plants—those familiar forms we often encounter in lush forests and watery havens. Yet, there is another side to the fern, a springtime fern, as it unfurls and stretches towards new life. This is the time to revel in its many meanings and uses.
The fiddlehead, oh the fiddlehead fern! It is nature’s symphony, its own unfolding coil of life. In some regions, these coiled and unfurling parts of the fern are not just sight to behold, but also a delectable delicacy. When young and tender, curling fiddlehead fronds are harvested and sautéed, awakening our palates to their verdant allure. However, tread cautiously, for it is crucial to ensure that the fern chosen is the edible kind. If allowed to mature, bitterness prevails, rendering them unappetizing and unsuitable for consumption.
Yet beyond their culinary appeal, fiddleheads hold a profound symbolic meaning. In Maori culture, they are known as “koru,” an enduring spiral that unravels and curls within the silver fern of New Zealand. This sacred symbol finds its place in art, adorning intricate patterns, carvings, and adorning the skin in beautiful tattoos. It represents new life, growth, strength, and harmony. The very act of unfurling, mirroring the fern itself and its timeless history upon this earth, conveys the notion of perpetual motion—a coil returning to its origin, forever reborn, ever-sustaining life. It intertwines with our culture, infuses our existence, providing nourishment and inspiration. Fascinatingly, the kodu has become an integral part of the indigenous flags of New Zealand, as well as the emblem of the national rugby team, featured prominently in their traditional chant before each game.
The silver fern, a symbol of culture, sustenance, and the natural furnace of life, is intertwined with folklore and legend. Tales abound of mysterious flowers and seeds that unfurl and bloom during auspicious moments throughout the year. In Slavic folklore, discovering a young fern’s blossoming guarantees a lifetime of happiness and abundance. Similarly, Finnish tradition holds that finding fern seeds in full bloom during midsummer grants the beholder the power to traverse far-off lands, unearthing hidden treasures along the way, as if breaking a spell, allowing a glimpse into forbidden realms. In various cultures, dried ferns are burned to purify and banish malevolent spirits, to ward off ill fate and even to drive away unwanted animals.
In more recent times, ferns made their mark in the Victorian era, triggering an obsession known as “pteridomania (pterido being Latin for ferns).” This fern frenzy permeated decorative arts such as pottery, glasswork, textiles, sculptures, and prints, where fern motifs became a ubiquitous presence, even adorning gravestones as an eternal symbol of the unending coil of life. Ferns were cultivated, shared, and became integral components of botanical gardens, forever enchanting those who beheld them.
And let us not forget their immortalization in literature and poetry, for here we find the works of Ted Hughes and his immortal poem, “Fern.” Let us journey through his verse once more, savoring the exquisite lines that speak to the fern’s very soul. The poem commences with a vivid portrayal of the fern’s anatomy, likening its unfurling fronds to a serenade, an ethereal melody that transcends time itself. It stands as a testimony to endurance, remaining steadfast long after life’s fervor has waned, through storms and tribulations, both nature’s and civilization’s. It endures as a remnant, preserving the essence of everlasting life. And who are the privileged spectators of this delicate dance? The woodland creatures, the minuscule insects, and the ever-watchful eyes of a creator—a life-giving force akin to the flowing waters. And what of these ferns? Rising, renewing, and eventually departing, they continue to bestow upon us the precious gift of life. We burn them, we consume them, and we weave tales around them, embedding them in our cultures, our languages. Indeed, the power of the fern is so immense that it has become the emblem of a warrior nation, an emblem that intertwines with their way of life and taps into the ancient wisdom of our predecessors.
And where do we, mere mortals, fit into this grand tapestry? Can we claim the fern as our own? In our everyday lives, can we recognize the different stages of its existence? Can we appreciate and comprehend its resilient nature, its eternal propagation? Can we perceive the symbolic and sensual aspects of this life-giving plant? What does it mean to encounter something that has flourished for millennia, still providing for us and the Earth, endlessly unfurling and curling outward, an eternal circle of life? Let us make space in our thoughts and drift into the realms of myth, culture, and time, pondering upon the sublime beauty of the fern.
©️ 2023 Dante Remy
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