The path suddenly disappeared as I hiked up our spur from WindCradle to the Superior Hiking Trail. Where I had painstakingly cleared, spread sawdust, laid down birch edges…. nothing but a bunch of branches, twenty feet high. I scrambled around and found that a huge poplar had gone down lengthwise over the path, bringing down four or five other large trees. I could not have begun to shift even one. So much for that path.
The wind that September Monday blew and blew. And we know that the topsoil in this area is not very deep, because the glaciers so recently receded. The trees just didn’t have deep enough roots. With so little to hang onto, you get a big wind, and over they crash, bringing others along with them.
When I got to the bottom of the tree, I could see its root system. Not much to it. I shook my head and thought of trees I’ve seen up in the Boundary Waters with elaborate root systems, reaching out over rocks and twisting themselves into soil nearby. You can see that their root systems are a priority, not simply to get water and nutrients, but to hold on through extreme weather.
The giant oaks, beeches, sycamores, elms, and chestnuts we see in different parts of the country are held up, they say, by root systems that are often bigger (up to twice as large) as their leafy crowns. Those trees endure drought, floods, and high winds better than many that grow up here in northern Minnesota because of their roots.
Looking at those roots along our spur trail—meager for such enormous trees—I thought of how much trees have to teach us.
Our society so often values the outside, like an impressive, fast growing tree. The deep, hidden roots, which are not very impressive—we forget how crucial they are. We like the impressive, like a celebrity. Shooting up, like a prodigious talent. Photogenic like a model.
The roots? Why they’re in the dark, hidden underground. They are dirty and gnarled, not very attractive. Who needs them?
When the wind comes up high and blows all day, when the rain comes down in torrents, washing out river beds, when a dry hot summer goes on and on…. then roots turn to be what really matters.
Some trees were sheltered from the wind that late September day. They were in just the right place so they felt only gentle breezes. They stood just fine.
We may stand for half of lifetime with no attention to our roots. But eventually, no matter how well we manage to protect ourselves from high winds, torrential rains, droughts—things happen. Often the “gales or downpours” are unexpected— a car accident, an illness, a divorce, a job loss, a rebellious child, depression—and we find ourselves standing in the whistling wind, deep in raging waters.
That’s when we need roots. What might those roots be? Here are some suggestions:
Root #1: Friends who know us well enough that they will hang in with us during tough times and speak truths we may or may not want to hear.
Root #2: A faith community whose hope and faith hold us when our own faith and hope feels spent, weak, or tenuous.
Root#3: A sacred text from which we can draw comfort— one with which we grapple in tough times.
Root #4: Self awareness, so that we are not easily swept away by flattery or other temptations in times of stress.
Root #5: A pattern of prayer/meditation to pull us back to our values, priorities and deepest truths.
Root #6: A group of people who support us, underlining our values and encouraging us to live out of them.
Imagine we had spoken to those trees that September morning (or maybe even in July) and said, “Hate to tell you this, but we’re in for some major wind. How about putting some deeper roots down? If I were you I’d do it now.” Sounds crazy, because we know roots take time to grow. Theideal is for the roots to inch down as the leafy branches stretch up.
We all need to deepen our roots. We can never know when we’ll hit some major gales or downpours. As we enter this dark time of year—this may be a great time to check our root systems, asking whether we have them in place and are intentionally growing them. (How am I doing for Root #1—truth speaking friends? How about Root #2—am I part of a faith community?, etc.)
Deepen my roots: those parts of me that go deep and will hold me firm in times of stress and distress. This may be the most crucial prayer I can pray.
Each month a member of the
Cook County Ministerium will
offer Spiritual Reflections. For
November, our contributor is
Mary Ellen Ashcroft, mentor
of Spirit of the Wilderness
Episcopal church and founder of
WindCradle Retreat.
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