Hovering Roots – Photo: L.Weikel

Hovering Roots

In my recent quests to go a bit off the beaten path lately, I’ve been walking on roads that I mostly only ever drive upon. Some roads surrounding my home are only in my awareness as intersections, since they are veritable ‘dead ends,’ therefore giving me no good reason to drive down them.

Today, though, I walked down one of these dead end roads and fell in love with the scenery. I know I’m going to be including this offshoot and walking it much more frequently, mostly because it is blissfully without traffic but also because it traces the route of a tributary to my beloved Tohickon.

The tributary, replete with massive stones piled on each other in such a way as to create terraced waterfalls, flows peacefully right into the Tohickon. But before it does, it burbles and trickles its way alongside the road, dodging massive trees and monkey vines, basking in small pools hosting hoards of peepers, and feeding life all along the way.

Mirror? Or Shelter?

The photo I’ve included tonight is one I took early this evening. The subject caught my eye and in some sense feels like it’s mirroring me. I was going to say ‘rootless,’ but that’s not quite accurate. I have roots, as does this tree. But somehow, in some way, the soil I’ve relied on to keep me grounded is nowhere to be found.

Will new soil arrive, carried downstream from fields further up? Or will I somehow need to find a way in which to seek new soil out?

Or the third option, I suppose, is to remain as is: roots hovering over the surface of the stream, nourished when the rains come, then holding space in the drier times, faithfully creating space for other lives to take refuge in when there’s nowhere else to hide.

(T-957)