I think I’m on stone number 729 or something like that. By now I’ve learned how to select the stone for the spot and how to set it so it will be stable enough to walk on.
Slopes create a challenge, even if they’re slight. But what really creates an obstacle is root systems.
So when I encountered a huge root on a fairly short and steep slope, I realized both challenges concurrently would require special effort.
If a root is smaller than your average cucumber, I’ll cut it and remove it. If it’s larger than that, I work around it because I don’t want to risk serious injury to the life of the tree.
So far I’ve cut through hundreds of roots. And so far there have been only three that I had to work around. They were huge – perhaps the size of my arm. The latest one took a while to manage because of its location in a stepped area.
I ended up with three wide boulders. The middle one has a huge root underneath on the left side. I went back out rock hunting to find a stone that was this size with a thin left side.
When I begin to dig, I don’t know what I’ll find. Most of the time I can make things work easily. Topsoil. Clay. Roots. I get to play with patterns and imagine several different options. But sometimes there’s a whopper root just waiting beneath the surface. And then there’s nothing to be done but cooperate.
I’m resisting the urge here to write a clever garden metaphor for life. It would go something like this:
Gardener digs a hole, as Human explores self within.
Gardener encounters an immovable obstacle, as Human remembers pain of trauma and loss.
Gardener examines obstacle, studies form, and evaluates options, as Human unpacks injury and works to bring healing where it was previously absent.
Gardener works in spite of and along with obstacle to accomplish desired result, as Human works in spite of and along with pain to move toward redemption.
Something like that.