RAMBLINGS OF THE MIND
The park is at its best in twilight. The crepuscular rays are radiating from the point where the sun is partially hidden between the trees in the park. And in contrast to the green leaves, the rays are turning imperceptibly from yellow to orange to red.
“Look!” Strauss said.
“Wow, Sir, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Bob said excitedly like an 8-year old girl looking at her favourite Rilakkuma.
“Wait until the sun is right behind the top branch of Trish.”
“Trish? Who’s Trish, sir?” asked Bob.
“That tall and beautiful tree right in front of me. She’s Trish,” said Strauss as if he’s introducing his girlfriend to his parents.
“I h-h-h-heard that…. You’re t-t-t-talking about my b-b-butt again, Strauss.”
“Hi Trish, meet our new FB (friend-bench), Bob. He has just been installed this morning. No ribbon-cutting though, like they did to me.”
“And I haven’t been peed by a dog yet.,..hahahaha Hello Ma’am, nice meeting you,” Bob’s laughter echoed throughout the park.
Trish thought for a while, and carefully chose her words to the newbie, “Nice to m-m-m-meet you too, Bob.” she said, wondering what it is that looks very familiar.
“Sir Strauss, why do trees grow so tall and still stand?” Bob asked while looking high up on Trisha’s top which was emblazoned by the orange clouds behind her.
“The answer is not up there, young one. It’s down below. You’re like looking at the right page number but on the wrong book.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Form follows function,” said Strauss.
“You’re too intelligent for me, sir”
“Roots, my man, roots. The answer is in the roots. They gather nutrients from the soil and they support the weight of the top growth of the tree.” Strauss explained.“Some primary roots extend almost as deep as the height of the tree., Strauss continued his lecture, “And Secondary “feeder” roots often extend far beyond a tree’s drip line -- the imaginary line around the tree where water drips off the perimeter of its canopy.
“What you c-c-c-can’t see, Bob” Trisha interrupted, “is that r-r-r-roots of trees are almost always, um, intertwined with e-e-e-each other,.”
Bob thought about how strong a bond must there be between trees whose roots are intertwined. He can feel a deep sense of familiarity in that feeling. Something he can’t seem to figure out. yet.
“Are your actions, Bob, predicated upon your roots,”
“If you’re asking whether I know my roots, sir, yes I believe I do.”
“Do you th-th-th-therefore prefer to b-b-b-be where your roots are?
Would you be h-h-h-happy if you’re reconnected, um, t-t-t-to your roots?”
Yes, to both questions, Ma’am. I would really be happy.”
“For reasons I cannot say as of yet, can I ask your opinion about cutting trees?”
“Sir, I think it is not the cutting that is wrong, it is the way they are cutting trees, that is not right.”
“You’re not as dumb as I thought you are.”