What Plant Would You Be?

Many years ago, journalist Barbara Walters was widely mocked for asking the actress Katherine Hepburn what kind of tree she would be.  She asked that question in response to Hepburn stating that she would like to be a tree.  Hepburn chose oak, because they are strong and pretty.

I've been working on a book lately, and the process of writing leads my mind in a lot of unusual directions.  Last night that meant considering what kind of plant I would be.  Lots of my friends talk about what sort of animal they would be, often based on the Animal Tarot, or totem animals, yet even though so many of us work with plants day in and day out, I can't recall talking the plants we feel we are most like.

My own first thought last night was of thick, dense moss growing by a creek.  Soft and lush, close to the earth, that seems familiar.

A couple of years ago I took a workshop at The Rosemary House with Pam Montgomery that involved sitting with plants and really observing them. While I was looking forward to it, at no point did I actually think that I'd "get it."  We all want to connect with the plants, but seem to think that they only talk to others.  Being compelled to sit there with a hops vine, it wasn't long before I was observing how strong it was, and how the tendrils reached ever higher, letting nothing stop its progress.  I remember looking at the flowers and noting how hard it worked to procreate.  15 minutes in, I realized that I was relating to the growth of the vine, the struggles, and her appearance that while not particularly showy, was stunning when looked at on more than a superficial level.

Since then, I think of plants differently.  For example...

Wild Ginger, with such hidden, unassuming blossoms, spicy roots, and glossy leaves.

Blueberry - dainty blooms, vibrant fruits.  Grow in bunches.  Vivid tough leaves.

The ultimate trumpet - but remains hidden, building strength underground for 10 months each year.

Toadflax - beautiful, under appreciated, little dragons

Motherwort - prickly, layers, flowers nearly invisible, up, up, up.

Plantain - lush rosette, ribbed leaves, close to the ground with inconspicuous bloom stalk.  Whip like.

Poppy - stunning, papery, soft, swelling ovary, waving in the wind above cut leaves.

So you see, there's a start.  A very rudimentary beginning to thinking about the personalities of plants.  So often we name them after people, and vice versa.  Rose, Sage, and Jasmine, for instance.  I know some people who are Stinging Nettles.  They are lush and nourishing, but take an awful lot of work to stay on their good side.  I know mighty white pine people, with soft needles, pliable arms, and a notable weakness when piled too high with heavy snow.  I know beautiful echinaceas that offer creatures shelter in storms and seeds for birds in winter, and appear strong in the spring, ready to do it again.  Many times when I get to know a plant these days, I can align it with a human acquaintance.

So what plant would you be?  Have you thought about it at all?  I think we're all several plants, depending on our moods and circumstances, but it's fun to consider.