Taproot

At some early point in my science learning, I was taught about taproots. If I remember right, a plant with a taproot has a single, thick, deep root with fine, fibrous roots fingering their way into the surrounding earth. If the plant in question is a weed, you're in luck because the taproot shape makes it quite easy to get the whole root system out with a single tug.

It was this teaching that I pondered this evening while pulling weeds on my new brick patio. Many of the weeds were equipped with the handy taproot system which made for ideal removal. And I learned something this evening: I like weeding.

There are a few things I miss about our "yard" at our old apartment. I miss the bunnies and the sky-fuls of fireflies. I miss the cemetery and my Thinking Rock. I miss the stone wall and the gate and the raspberries and the hawk we saw there once.

But at Euroclydon, our new home, I love my yard. I love the flowers. I love the patio. I love the mowing and pruning and weeding. I love the morning birds and the nighttime "birds," the bats. I love our shed, our driveway, the Russian sage behind the house, the big maple tree, and the butterflies. I've found my inner hobbit, in love with things that grow.

My roots are growing deep already, but they're not taproot. I think pretty soon it will take more than a single tug to pull me out of this ground I'm starting to love. My roots are spreading wide, deep, and tangled. I think I'll grow well here.