Reflections – Roots that anchor
I love trees. The way
they reach up to the heavens – like the original skyscrapers – towering above
as a silent testament to the power of nature. Those giant trees, indeed the
very ones around us, have seen the great passage of time. They were planted
when we were but glimmers in our grandparents’ imaginations and will go on
until our grandchildren walk these hallowed grounds. I’ve often sat in the
shade of these behemoths and wondered what they have seen: proposals and
breakups; intense happiness and profound loss; hope of a life ahead and the
finality of a life lived. Trees have stories to tell if we would but listen for
a while.
But trees don’t grow
tall without also growing deep. Beneath each towering tree is a root system
that anchors it to the earth. The roots draw nutrients from the soil and hold
the tree upright to drink in the sunlight. The roots hold the tree fast during
a strong storm. Indeed, the roots form the base from which the tree can grow to
the towering heights and resplendent shade that we know and love.
And we too have roots
that run deep, that anchor us to what we know. Our family, our friends, our
community – these are what anchors us. When we are challenged, our roots help
us to draw forth support. When the storms of life hit, our deepest roots help
us to weather the wind and rain until the sun can shine again. Indeed, our
roots in this place form a base from which we have been given the opportunity
to grow to great heights ourselves.
Some trees use their
roots differently than the ones we see around us. The mangrove trees of the
tropical rainforest exist as an interconnected community. Their roots weave
together so tightly that they can actually share resources from tree to tree. When
an individual tree is in need of something, its neighbors respond by diverting
these nutrients to the needy one’s roots. They support each other and so the
entire community is strengthened. Don’t we, as Lancers, do this with one
another? When a Lancer is hurting, don’t we rally around them to strengthen
them for road ahead?
Still other communal
tree populations are being studied by scientists. These scientists have
discovered a rudimentary communication system in the roots of densely packed
forests. When a bug or illness threatens a tree, it releases chemicals in its
roots which other trees drink in. This prompts the neighboring trees to develop
defenses against the intruder. When our community is threatened, don’t we do
everything in our power to support the Lancers we know and love?
Trees are truly
magical creations. Their roots draw up from the soil the things they need to
survive. Their leaves act as little power plants giving the tree life and, as
an added bonus, us fresh air. But there’s another part of the tree that I like
less: the pollen. I don’t know about you but I have some pretty intense
seasonal allergies. When the oaks start blooming, I start sneezing. Around
here, as I’m sure you all will remember, the streets literally run with the
catkins – the pollen producing part – from live oaks. If it was feasible, I’d
pack up during the Spring and head somewhere that oaks couldn’t follow.
But pollen season is a
reminder to me too. Although I love to sit in the shade of a towering tree,
that’s not ultimately why that tree grows tall. It grows tall so that it can
have better access to the sun so that it can do a better job of creating
pollen. The pollen creates the next generation of tree. The tree is powered by
its roots and leaves so it can spread its life all around.
Isn’t this what we’re
supposed to be doing too? We’re fueled by our roots – by the people who have
gone before us – and our leaves – the people who have empowered us – to spread
out into the world. We are propelled by their support and nourishment so that
we can make a difference to others.
Like I said, I love
trees.
