What Is Seen and What Is Not Seen . . . As a young mother the highlight of my week was attending along with my four children the Wasatch Audubon field trips. Hiking, birding and socializing in the atmosphere of a natural setting, these weekly events were very much a part of our educational pursuits. We learned to spot a fowl from the characteristics of each species. Sometimes we could not even visually see the creature but could hear the tones of their seasonal rituals, allowing us a clue to the true nature of the bird.
In the early spring and summer the rich green foliage was very appealing; alluring and soothing to the eye as well as the spirit. Although most of the vegetation was multi-sensory . . . there were some plants that although very beautiful and inviting I would take my children by the hand and carefully lead them around and away from the dangers that lie ahead.
These same luscious greeneries in the fall became irresistible to the eye when the autumn seasons bittersweet effect of photosynthesis begins to break down due to lack of sunlight. Now more alluring and noticeable with leaves of multi-colors and hues we were actually drawn to the very plant that we had purposely side-stepped in the past.
Wednesday fieldtrips with our Mentors were continued even through the harsh winter months allowing us to see and participate in the Seasonal changes. The trails that we had hiked and knew well became a new fantasy world that seemed to transport us to a fairyland of white. Ice cycles hanging over the stream and lacey drifts of white icing hanging on every branch.
The lush greenery that we admired in the summertime was no more and only the stems and branches of the trees and foliage now remained. Examining the same plants that earlier I had recognized brought a new enthusiasm for there was a new species that I had not previously known. Breaking off a twig with tantalizing white berries I rushed over to my Mentors in the Audubon to glean from their vast knowledge. As I approached I could see that something was not quite right as I inquired of what genus this could possibly be?
The answer was not one that was expected as I quickly found out that the twig with the tantalizing white berries is one that had I known the “True Nature” of their origin . . . I would not be holding them in my possession. What . . . . ? How could they be . . . ? “Poison Ivy”? They seemed so harmless. The mistake I had made proved to be one that my children have never let me forget.
In light of the up-coming elections I would ask that we don’t let an alluring face or smooth or multi-colored renditions of what we like to hear distract us. Let’s look to the past for lessons that our forebear’s have already learned. Let’s not repeat the very mistakes that caused heartache and pain. Study the ramifications of the choices laid before us. Frederick Bastiat so eloquently put it in “What Is Seen And What Is Not Seen.” He reminds us that what may seem harmless now can have catastrophic effects in the future.
Let’s have the courage to look to our Mentors, read and study the issues, teach true principles that help build men and women of virtue, wisdom, and diplomacy and move the cause of liberty.
The parable of the “Poison Ivy“ is one that our family will remember for many generations to come.
