Rough Edens

Rough Edens

By LEON YOUNGBLOOD

THEN the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it, — Genesis 2:15

There is some debate as to what the word “Eden” actually meant to the ancient Hebrew mind, but many scholars who stay up nights pondering that sort of thing think the word can best be translated “delights.”  I can see that.  Adam, the first Man, created by God from the dust of the earth, found himself in paradise the moment the dust settled and he had sensory perceptions of things.  He had a head start, too.  He was created fully mature, and apparently had a language, and a certain amount of knowledge.  He was given responsibilities right from the start, namely to, “Tend this garden and keep it.”  Thus, Adam worked, and faced challenges, but this was not burdensome to him.  Adam liked his job, and the challenges were of a nurturing sort.  Image him walking side by side with God his Creator, and God says, “Adam, you thought that watermelon you picked up this morning was heavy.  Let’s see you get that one!”

BRIAR CIRCLE

So Adam struggles with a 599-pounder a few minutes.  He concedes, and says, “Lord, I reckon I’ll have to get the elephant to get this here melon.” 

The elephant is summoned, the watermelon is picked up and busted, they all partake and agree it was better than the one they had that morning.  The next one would be even better, for that’s how things worked in Eden. 

The elephant was enjoying his share while God ate His portion and watched.  He asked, “Adam—why did you name that beast elephant?”

“Why, ‘cause he looks like an elephant, Lord!”

The elephant smiles happily and keeps eating.  He doesn’t care what he’s called as long as he’s called to dinner.

The sad history of Adam and Eve put us where we are today, but ever since, people have thought they have found traces of Eden.  For Mark Twain, it was the Sandwich (Hawaiian) Islands.  Doctor Livingston regarded the jungles of Africa as his Eden and his home.  Artist Georgia O’Keefe thought New Mexico had bits and pieces of Eden in it, and as for me—well, of course it’s the Ouachita wilderness and Briar Circle.

Keep in mind, these beautiful places are rough Edens, at best.  I have taken Briar Circle to heart, and tended it, and have cleared things, planted things, built things, and have seen them disappear, too.  I planted dogwoods, redbuds, fringe trees, blueberries, only to see them die in drought or freeze in cold.  I had a small pond built, and stocked it with fish—otters et ‘em.  I’ve seen deer, turkeys, bears, bobcats, cougars, eagles, ‘possums and racoons; but I’ve also been plagued by ticks, chiggers, mosquitoes, biting flies and scorpions.

I’ve sweated and shivered in the Ouachitas, and have been stranded by rain, flat tires, dead batteries, and I’ve broken two or three ribs there, and have had a few other emergencies that were serious to require medical attention.

But the odd thing is, I have never left the wilderness shack at Briar Circle without an eager anticipation to return soon.  It has its rough edges, but it’s Eden.

For those who know what I’m talking about, I hope you get to your own Edens often.  And I wish you the best.     

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