Judith Harris

I love the mission of Plant-Human Quarterly because it proposes an entirely new way of looking at and respecting the otherness of the earth, a poetical version of ecological conduct—one of preservation and delight. There is an effort to move away from the isolation of the pathetic fallacy toward interconnectedness and a stance of humility rather than self-aggrandizement of the individual ego; although I see another side to the Romantics, who I believe approached nature with a reverence for its sensuality and non-human consciousness. Nature’s alterity is celebrated on its own terms within its own ecosystem. While introspection is part of the meditative process, our understanding of the world comes with observation. This marks a new psychological conservatism: a regard for nature’s value and participation in our daily lives.

In both of my poems, I was interested in resilience. The flowers in “Night Garden” won’t dissolve in the darkness. The crippled ivy in “Home from the Hospital” can reach into the human world—if I am receptive. Eschewing the pathetic fallacy, I tried to sift out this human need for spectral identification in nature, and yet, if not for language, what we can’t bear to see is the lack of coherence. A confrontation with the true emptiness of death as irrefutable would be unbearable. Instead, we supply the image as a mirage, a necessary illusion that keeps us company in the darkest of times.