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January Snowdrops

January snowdrops

The snowdrops are beginning to bloom this week. They are not native to the Pacific Northwest. A cursory search on the Internet traces them to Asia Minor and they were garden favorites in Britain and Ireland before they appeared in the new world.

Here on the farm, snowdrops are thriving and spreading. My mother or grandmother planted them in the front yard flower beds, but lately, patches of snowdrops have been popping up in semi-shaded areas of heavy leafmold at edge of the woods and in the windbreaks. The patches began as little clumps, but the largest is now is close to twenty feet across. I suspect the proliferation stems from the absence of dairy cows snuffling and trampling over the delicate snowdrop beds, but that is only a guess.

Tree invaded by ivy

New species scare me. My grandmother planted English ivy and now it threatens to choke the natives out. A couple years ago, it nearly strangled one of the evergreens in the yard with vines that grew as thick as a man’s arm.  We cut the vines with axe and chain saw and pulled the ivy up that surrounded the base of the tree with the tractor. Dead vines still wrap the tree, but each year the tree grows a little healthier and the damage less apparent.

I hope the snowdrops are not invaders. January needs reminders that spring is not far away. This is an el Nino year and January has been warm, the temperature occasionally making it into the sixties, and I believe we have not seen a single snowflake. Still, the sun seldom shines, and when it does, the landscape is muddy and muted. The holidays are past and spring is still remote.

January Lilac Buds

The snowdrops are thriving and even the lilacs are beginning to bud. There is still a chance of a bitter Northeaster, but the chance diminishes every day. The good comes with the bad. Warmth comes hand in hand with foggy overcast nights and the young astronomers have not had a single clear night for the telescope since Christmas.

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Warring States

Filbert Catkins in January

The Indian civilization of the northwest reminds me of the Warring States (476 – 221 BCE) period in China. The Warring States was a dark interlude in the train of China’s history, which, unlike Western history, is a continuous sequence of dynasties. The government in China today is in a succession of dynasties that goes back at least to the Shang Dynasty whose traditional end was 1122 BCE. The Shangs left a literary legacy of inscriptions on ox scapulae and turtle shells that are an early form of the Chinese characters that are used today. The Shang was followed by the Western and Eastern Zhou dynasties. The Zhou left a few books and lengthy inscriptions on wonderful bronze castings. The Warring States were the last two hundred or so years of the Eastern Zhou. My mentor, Herrlee Creel, was one of the first historians to make use of Zhou bronze inscriptions, and I spent a few delightful years under his direction studying the Warring States, the chaotic period when the power of the Zhou kings was no longer adequate to establish order in the north China plain.

The Warring States is almost always described as a period of cruelty, treachery, and unprincipled ambition. The orderly civilization that Chinese historians saw in records of the Zhou dynasty disintegrated into a cluster of warring small states, each trying to get the best of the others. But the Warring States was the period when the great schools of Chinese philosophy and political theory became established. Confucianism, Daoism, Legalism, and military strategy all evolved rapidly while the states warred. Revenge, spite, and bloody battles are found on every page of the history of the period, along with intense intellectual ferment and a desire to return to the orderly days of the Zhou.

The Warring States period was ended by the leader of the warring states, Chin. Chin unified the states into as single state in 221 BCE, recalling the glory of Zhou. Unfortunately, the first ruler of the unified state was a cruel tyrant and could not hold power. He was replaced by the Han Dynasty, which was the first dynasty for which we have a detailed written history. From the Han on, recording of dynastic history was an important function of government. This began a long succession of great historic dynasties. Although the current regime in China may not be ready to acknowledge it, they are the current representative of a long line of mighty dynasties.

I believe that the modern world that we enjoy today owes as great a debt to Warring States China as it does to the golden age of the Greek philosophers. Surprisingly, Socrates ( 469 BCE–399 BCE) and Confucius (551 BCE – 479 BCE) were almost contemporaries.

But back to the Indians of the Pacific Northwest. Before the coming of the white men, the Bostons as they were called, the northwest Indians lived in idyllic splendor. Unlike the Indians of plains who had to scramble for survival, on the northwest coast, food was abundant. Swarms of salmon, halibut, and sea mammals were easily harvested and preserved. Clams, oysters, crabs, and other seafood were lying on the beach. There was no struggle to survive.

The Indians were able to skip agriculture and move on directly to a settled life of huge long houses and mighty totemic art. And they warred continuously, fighting over territory, fishing grounds, and slaves. They were a collection of warring states. It is easy to speculate on what they could have accomplished if they had a written language, or a more organized religion, or indigenous iron, but that kind of speculation only leads to a round of back patting among Europeans who reaped the supposed benefits.

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Education

My grandfather was in his late teens when he hid under the straw in railroad car packed with the family’s cattle, farm equipment, and household goods for the trip from Blue Earth Minnesota to Bellingham. The railroad allowed one person to ride in the car to tend to the cattle. That place was taken by my grandfather’s older brother. Grandpa had to dive under the cattle bedding when the railroad inspectors came around. When the railroad car arrived at the siding in Bellingham, they opened the door, and a chicken, seeing Bellingham Bay, flew squawking out into the water and was never seen again.

Schooled enough to survive, my grandfather was not refined. He chewed tobacco, leaving a trail of brown saliva wherever he went. My mother said he never used an indoor toilet, preferring the woods. He seldom bathed, usually smelled of manure and wore overalls for all occasions occasions but church. For entertainment, my grandmother read to him in German.

My grandfather’s father, Gottlieb, was a devout Lutheran who pored over his cherished complete works of Martin Luther. He did not transmit his piety to any of his children except my grandfather, who was the least prepared or inclined toward theology. My grandmother told me the only time my grandfather rested was in church.

From Gottlieb to my grandfather, the family slipped down a notch in culture and refinement. In Germany, Gottlieb was an educated man without a heritage. He built his heritage by emigrating to America and using the skills he gained through education to become a landowner. Even in landowning, Gottlieb exceeded my grandfather. My grandfather owned forty acres. Gottlieb originally owned one hundred sixty acres, some of which he later sold.

It is easy to attribute this slip to the years spent in Minnesota. Gottlieb’s younger brother emigrated a few years after Gottlieb and joined him in the car yards. But the younger brother skipped Minnesota and went directly to Whatcom County. It was the younger brother’s reports of Whatcom County that brought Gottlieb. The younger brother’s children got more than a third grade education, graduating from high school and college, and eventually becoming teachers and university professors.