Going to ground

Elli was a gardener. She knew the score. No one ever planted a tree thinking further ahead than its sapling strength; its lush maturity. No one ever anticipated the withering, the succumbing to disease. The time when the beauty of younger, healthier plants around about called attention away from denuding branches. That was when the garden altered so much the old tree became close to invisible. After invisibility only the toppling remained. All that was left was to fall. To be cut into convenient lengths. To be carted away. And, because the tangle of old roots that remains prevents new growth coming through, the grinding out of the stump. Elli knew the score.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s