Memorial to Sophora

I lost a dear friend, advisor, and benefactor, and I don't even know when she was killed.

A mountain laurel tree on UT campus, one which I have matronized for over ten years, was gone when I went to visit earlier this week. Full grown, mature, just minding its business of adding some beauty in an out-of-the-way spot, at some point last year, it was removed. Completely, no trace, no stump, no seeds. Cheap honeysuckle vines had replaced a very valuable landscaping tree with no evident reason. UT is a motherfucker, if nobody ever let you in on that, corporate, unfeeling, imperial, unpredictable. Just ask East Austin.

I struck up a relationship with "my" mountain laurel tree over ten years ago, back when I was a student at UT. The hard, shiny, blood-red beans or seeds of this tree fascinated me, and Dr. Marshal Johnston, my favorite, most honored botany professor, told us that the name "Sophora" came from the name of the goddess Sophia, she of truth, wisdom, and justice, because the Indians once brewed a hallucinogenic, psychotropic, vision-producing beverage from the otherwise toxic red seeds, or "mescal beans." According to him, nobody knew the recipe anymore, how to extract the wisdom from the poison, and I certainly never experimented, though I am sure other ethnobotanical voyagers have.

I found that I could benefit from the wisdom of this plant simply by being in proximity, smelling the grape kool-aid scented intoxicating flowers, and by carrying or wearing the beans. I even for awhile wore them in my ears as jewelry, calling them my "ear-beans."

It was not till later that I remembered a highschool boyfriend, who told me that his mother's witch-practitioner had made him hold one in his mouth when he testified in court. He had been framed by some bad-boy friends, and the Sophora seed in his mouth was supposed tto help his testimony bring the truth of the matter to bear in the court of law. The red color also speaks to personal power, and I took up wearing a necklace of the beans whenever I had to testify at city council, or speak truth to power to a bunch of suit-wearing liars, back when I was an environmental activist. In other words, the deva of this plant is a very powerful person, and it seems that many people respond to her wisdom.

I also made (still make) jewelry as a part-time extra-cash endeavor, and having visiting all the mountain laurel trees on UT campus I settled on this, my grandmother benefactor tree, because she produced beans so prolifically, even in the drought years, of such perfectly even, deep red color and perfect form, she supplied me with as many beans as I had market for my necklaces. On Wednesdays in October I would visit her, to gather the seeds. Crouching and squatting in the planter box on UT campus, filling a bag with those seeds, nobody ever asked me what I was doing, although I would have that conversation ready to go in case I needed it!

Then I would go home with my haul, and using my high speed power drill, I would make the beans into beads and string them. They sold well at Christmas, owing to the cranberry-red color. I always included a tag that told about the powers and also warned against letting babies and children chew on them, candy-apple red as they are and very toxic.

Last October I was very busy and I had enough beans collected so that I didn't need to go "shopping" with my tree. I happened by earlier this week on my way to a meeting and found my tree gone, without a trace. UT is an unfeeling, impersonal, unpredictable, imperialistic, and yes even evil institution, and my guess is that they killed Sophora and two neighboring Sophora trees because the seeds got into a maintenence drain. That is only a guess, and I don't ever expect to know why she was killed or when it happened.

The only solace to this story is that her progeny have been coming up in my backyard for years and years. Not EVERY bean was absolutely perfect, but hopefully those at least one of these "discarded" beans will carry her perfection into the future. And, the last time I made necklaces, I thought I had used up every single last one of her beans, but now that I look a little, they are all over my room and my whole house, and I can easily tell which are her beans and which came from another tree. These will be planted in a sacred manner in a very special protected place, which has specifically asked me for a few gifts of biodiversity, especially including Sophora. I will carry them with me until I can make good on the special order from my grandmother benefactor Sophora.