rocks and roots

I used to think that the problem around here was the rocks. Stones, rocks, boulders embedded in clay almost as hard as cement. I pry them loose. Use a pick-axe If I have to. I can’t plant carrots on rock.
I turn the rocks into borders, cairns, artfully placed natural scuptures. They have their places. Just not where I need things to grow.
I used to think the biggest problem was the rocks. But it’s not. It’s the roots.
Sneaking and snaking undergroud from various stands of trees, just deep enough to thwart any deep digging, they insist on their claim to the earth. Roots as thick as wrists, as strong as bone. Under the land cleared for living, they still hold their own.
It is easy to let them discourage my dream of a nourishing garden for the senses. Lettuce, lilies, lemon balm, lavender. Carrots and cone flowers. Tomatoes. Peppers. Strawberries. Foxglove.
The tree leaves surrounding me are uniformly colored in all seasons. I have a red maple to plant. Two lilac bushes. A red bark willow. The old roots are tenacious, adamant in their ownership.
But so am I.

1 thought on “rocks and roots

  1. Oh do we have both as well! Bought us a pair of good loppers for the job. Nix those roots right out of the ground. We needed room as well — flagstones, grasses, bleeding heart. Dug up the rocks and lopped the roots.

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