Defined By Our Roots



There are no more-powerful organs than roots. They define everything about a plant and, though largely unseen, everything that we see above-ground is determined by them. It is no wonder then that we talk about our own roots. They do the same. As I watch the birds that now visit my feeders, I think I relish most the visits by the Carolina chickadees and Carolina wrens. Although the differ a bit from the birds of my Wisconsin youth, they bring back memories of the birds I grew up with and I am then struck by how my roots define me.
Just as the roots of plants anchor it and supply the nutrients necessary for its life, ours do the same for us. We never actually escape our own roots no matter how many times we move about the world. Where we were first planted nourishes us for the rest of our lives. As a Midwestern child of the 50's and 60's, I wandered the hills of southern Wisconsin, exploring the magic of spring in the deciduous forests that were near me. Perhaps that is why I am still drawn to Florida's deciduous forest systems and why I have chosen to plant deciduous trees and shrubs in my landscapes. Some of them are unique to this region where I now reside, but others have counterparts that remind me of my youth. I have chosen to anchor my small developing woodland with a basswood (Tilia americana). It is a species that is also common to my youth and one that produces some of my favorite honey. Plums, viburnums, and haws have their counterparts in my northern roots as does the serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea). They bring me a certain spiritual joy that is hard to explain. I believe it comes from my roots.
My life has taken a great many twists and turns since leaving my home state in 1980, but I am anchored by the roots that I put down in my most-formative years. They define what I find to be beautiful and they shape what I believe to be "right"; chickadees and wrens are birds that bring memories that will always be an integral part of me. Not so much the birds that are uniquely southern, though I admire them. When I catch a glimpse at the spring migrants that pass through here and have one more chance to see wood warblers, orioles and tanagers that dominated my bird watching days up north, I feel blessed to have that one-more opportunity. Florida and its natural history have provided me a great many opportunities, and in a way it is a far more interesting place, biologically, than the places of my youth, but we never escape our roots even if we pack up and move away. We don't really "move away" from our roots any more than a plant does. They anchor us even after we've developed new ones and they nourish all the rest of our experiences as we age. 

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