…Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
– Wendell Berry, “Manifesto”
In terms, he says, of a return on your investment,
Pine is best. Quickest to shoot, and a versatile wood.
Your sequoias, Wendell, are senseless.
Granted, I luxuriate in their vast trunks, yet even
luxury demands a reasonable yield, and I
must live to see my windfall flow through these porticoes.
I remember windfall, says Sisyphus.
One autumn, at Delphi, while pines tottered
In the breeze and the Pleistos hummed, a river of
Olives scattered across the rocky soil and I,
Bent on prophecy and vengeance, clutched
A hefty handful, hoping to press
Some power or future from them. Instead,
They bruised, and the Oracle had only bad news.
I have no time to pick olives these days.
Always sizing up this mountain, I hardly
Know if the trees beside me still live.
I have tried. It is trying. I try.
Cedar’s reliable, fine-scented, the king resumes.
Grows in abundance. I savour olives with the best,
But you cannot build a temple with food.
To keep my lands for fruit and glory,
I will outsource my timber.
There’s a king who owes me;
His groves serve me well.
You may keep your sequoias, Wendell. I’ll fetch
All the conifers Lebanon’s hills can hold.
Speaking, says Sisyphus, of hills –
