I love trees. I don’t know why. Trees play a significant
role in every one of my books so far. I am so connected to them that whenever I
read or hear things about trees those facts or stories generally stick with me.
Again, I don’t know why, they just do.
In church one Sunday when I was younger I heard someone
compare us, the human race, to Redwood trees. (I wish I could remember who said
it so that I could give them the credit, but maybe it will be enough for you to
know that I didn't think of it first.) I have thought of that comparison many
times since this person made me aware of it . . . and as I have grown older I have come to
believe passionately in our likeness to the Redwood trees. Or rather, the fact
that we are meant to be like them, if we are not.
This person said that Redwoods, some of the tallest and
oldest trees on earth, have the shallowest root systems of any of their
counterparts. The moment they said this I sat up straighter in the pew. With
this comment the speaker captured my full attention because when I was a child
we had an enormous Cottonwood in our yard. All through my childhood I loved to
climb in it and I spent countless hours in its high branches. My mother often
cautioned me not to play around it in a storm because it had been her
experience that Cottonwoods could easily be uprooted by a strong wind since
they were notorious for having very shallow root systems.
I couldn’t help but wonder: If Redwood trees had shallow
root systems like Cottonwoods, then how was it possible for them to grow to be
so tall, and live to be so old? I waited, breathless, for the answer. The
secret to the mighty Redwood’s strength and longevity, the speaker went on to
explain, was indeed found within their unique root systems. The person said
that Redwoods, unlike most other trees, always grow together in groups,
entangling their root systems as they go. This entanglement lends them great
strength—a strength they would never possess on their own. In other words they
grow together living more like one entity instead of several separate entities
. . . in this way they are able to reach their unimaginable heights and whether
the storms around them.
Over the years, I have
come to wholeheartedly believe what that person was trying to tell us in church
that day. I have observed firsthand, that like the Redwoods, the human race truly is much more robust and thrives a whole lot better when we stretch out, irrevocably
entangling our lives with the lives of others . . . lending what strength we
can to those around us as we grow.