Roots signify connectedness as well as stability in trees and human hearts. Taproots run down the deepest into the earth but the tree sends out many smaller roots away from the tree to balance the upward growth.
My taproot was planted in a small town in Idaho living with my grandmother for those first years when roots are most tender. My life’s experiences since have seen the arterial roots pushing out in the darkness, exploring, gobbling up all the good worms and compost, sometimes sidelined by a nick from a lawn mower or sharp spade, but always moving. My roots were probably shallower than some because I was planted near a river like a poplar or willow, nibbling on wild watercress. These shorter roots were easy for me to transplant to various parts of the country. With little effort I could dig up my roots and stay for a short while in the high-water mark of Virginia, rich Pennsylvania Dutch farmland, potato and sugar beet fields in Idaho, urban potholes in Chicago, or most recently in the sandy, pine strewn lake shores of Minnesota. Throughout, my taproot nurtured these smaller vagabond roots, continually whispering, “You belong.”
Sometimes when the wind blows outside my window here in Minnesota, the trees that have grown up very close to each other squeak when they touch. This thrills me to the roots, reminding me that we all belong here, rooted together.
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My taproot was planted in a small town in Idaho living with my grandmother for those first years when roots are most tender. My life’s experiences since have seen the arterial roots pushing out in the darkness, exploring, gobbling up all the good worms and compost, sometimes sidelined by a nick from a lawn mower or sharp spade, but always moving. My roots were probably shallower than some because I was planted near a river like a poplar or willow, nibbling on wild watercress. These shorter roots were easy for me to transplant to various parts of the country. With little effort I could dig up my roots and stay for a short while in the high-water mark of Virginia, rich Pennsylvania Dutch farmland, potato and sugar beet fields in Idaho, urban potholes in Chicago, or most recently in the sandy, pine strewn lake shores of Minnesota. Throughout, my taproot nurtured these smaller vagabond roots, continually whispering, “You belong.”
Sometimes when the wind blows outside my window here in Minnesota, the trees that have grown up very close to each other squeak when they touch. This thrills me to the roots, reminding me that we all belong here, rooted together.
**See more about Sunday Scribblings.
6 comments:
What a beautiful post for today... I like that "You belong."
"Taproots run down the deepest into the earth but the tree sends out many smaller roots away from the tree to balance the upward growth."
I loved that. Though it did take me back to my biology class but it remains true for our life circle too.
Love your closing! Thanks for sharing.
Lovely post, you use the tree metaphor very well.
Prose poetry and very moving. Thank you!
Beautiful words and thoughts!
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