Richard Pearce was a scientist, an artist, an inventor and a teacher. His was an intense, enduring curiosity that over the course of a lifetime led him to see the interconnected in all things. As a microbiologist, he teased out the secrets of the invisible. As a naturalist, he celebrated how the parts inevitably create a richer whole. Pearce had the patience to see what most of us miss and also the tenacity to figure out how to show us. Yet until a few hours ago, I didn't know who Richard Pearce was, even though he lived just a few hours away from Chicago in Galena. Then again, I also didn't know that the shape, position and color of the sepals of many early spring flowers evolved to function as solar collectors designed to warm up the center. I am richer now for knowing both.
How I know is as unexpected as those sepals. It starts with McDonald's, which recently moved its headquarters to the city's trendy West Loop neighborhood in an effort to attract more techie hipsters to its workforce. Walgreen's moved into the same building, leading to an offhand comment on a Facebook string noting an emerging circular economy. That led to a string-within-string and the discovery that a friend of the friend who started the Facebook string is also a friend of my neighbor who occasionally takes pictures of the flowers in my Lamp Post Garden. I posted one of my photos, which prompted my new friend to post a link to Richard Pearce's website. Pearce was a friend of hers. The ripples widen.
To find one kindred spirit is a gift. To find two, a blessing. Pearce's work is a revelation of art, science and technique. His shorter videos, available on Youtube, are fabulous and is his digital opus – Flora of the Upper Midwest Driftless Region – on his website. Still, I wish there was a physical book. It would be so beautiful.
My joy is tempered by sadness. Richard Pearce died last May, a suicide. I have no idea what led him to a point of such sorrow, but hope that in some form he has returned to his beloved nature, atoms to molecules to cells.
I will never meet this marvelous man I have only just begun to know. His legacy is his work. For that I am beyond grateful.
How I know is as unexpected as those sepals. It starts with McDonald's, which recently moved its headquarters to the city's trendy West Loop neighborhood in an effort to attract more techie hipsters to its workforce. Walgreen's moved into the same building, leading to an offhand comment on a Facebook string noting an emerging circular economy. That led to a string-within-string and the discovery that a friend of the friend who started the Facebook string is also a friend of my neighbor who occasionally takes pictures of the flowers in my Lamp Post Garden. I posted one of my photos, which prompted my new friend to post a link to Richard Pearce's website. Pearce was a friend of hers. The ripples widen.
To find one kindred spirit is a gift. To find two, a blessing. Pearce's work is a revelation of art, science and technique. His shorter videos, available on Youtube, are fabulous and is his digital opus – Flora of the Upper Midwest Driftless Region – on his website. Still, I wish there was a physical book. It would be so beautiful.
My joy is tempered by sadness. Richard Pearce died last May, a suicide. I have no idea what led him to a point of such sorrow, but hope that in some form he has returned to his beloved nature, atoms to molecules to cells.
I will never meet this marvelous man I have only just begun to know. His legacy is his work. For that I am beyond grateful.
