Root Ball

We had a tree in our front yard that neighbors said looked like the Tree of Life. It was a honey locust, tall, old, and beautiful. In the winter when all of its greenery was gone, it simply stood tall. In the spring, it would produce these little seedpods that looked like ribbons that would spiral to the ground. It also sprouted zillions of feathery, compound green leaves that would weigh down the branches. At this point the tree would truly change shape, from tall and proud to full and majestic as the branches curled down toward the ground.

One year the power company sent tree experts around to make sure their lines were clear. One of their experts told us our tree could crack under its own weight and fall, so we hired that man to check the tree routinely to make sure it was strong and stable. (This was our compromise; my husband wanted the tree removed at that point and I said no way. So we hired an expert to watch it.) Despite this, the tree did exactly as the expert predicted: A few years ago it cracked under its own weight and half of it fell. Now off balance, the tree had to be removed entirely. Maybe that was just its time, but I cried my eyes out nonetheless.

Then the neighbors weighed in: Those who loved the tree and those who think the house looks better without it--which is in direct relation to who gets homemade cookies and sourdough when I’m in a baking mood and who doesn’t.

It’s been a few years, but this year my husband ordered a new honey locust for the yard, and this tiny little sapling arrived by FedEx. They’ll deliver anything. The sapling doesn’t have much of a root ball on it, though, so we’re not sure it will make it. But we planted it anyway and we’re watching it.

And it all makes me think: We can put so much into a plot of land just so, or into a perfect soil mixture with dirt and mulch or no mulch, or vitamins vs. minerals vs. too much or too little water, all in order to thrive. It’s important, all of it, certainly. But without the root ball, it’s all just stuff.

Roots are ours to grow, our intrinsic responsibility. They will hold us steady in the wildest weather and help us quench our thirst when everything on the surface goes the way of dust. Good roots enable us to reach higher than we thought possible. They can even help us touch the sky, while it’s still our time.