Ash – so often a sign of destruction, of despair even. Justin Welby and Rowan Williams have written movingly of their experiences of ash in Rwanda, in New York on 9/11. The ovens of Auschwitz also come to mind. All experiences of ash without hope, ash as witness to human evil but with no promise of anything better.
But I would like to turn to another hero of mine, David Attenborough, for a different picture. “In the forests of Australia fire travels fast, consuming dry leaves and twigs. But the tree trunks are so tall and free from low branches that the flames do not reach the crowns of the biggest. After only an hour or so the fire has passed, the ground is black. Where once there was a tangle of shady green leaves, there is now open space and for the first time in decades, sunlight strikes the ash-covered ground.
And now in a slow and gentle rain, the seeds drift down to earth. They had hung in the branches for years but the heat has cracked them open. They have few competitors and within a week they germinate and begin to grow.