Family Tree

At sunset we have a ceremonial tree planting.

The Bohemian dug the hole. Mary chose the tree (a hearty, up-and-coming mango). We all gather to move the soil and make our wishes.

Three boys (eight, seven and four and a half) jostle about to take turns with shovels, rakes and the hose. Bare feet dodge horse manure, our mango tree’s best friend.

Mary sprinkles Spirulina powder at the root base and the green dust catches the breeze to swirl in ritualistic smoke against the sunset sky.

This tree has been given everything it needs to thrive in the corner of the field. Once it is all tucked in and watered, the boys wander away from the sapling to some new point of interest near the garden. But the adults stay to gaze upon this green-leafed embodiment of potential. We offer hopes of big juicy fruit. Imagine thick branches holding children of the future.

I see the shade it will one day cast stretching out to shield a vast section of the pasture. Its roots holding the story of this planting. It is our family tree.

“Its going to outlive us all,” says Mary.

And nothing feels more right.


Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

October 19, 2010

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer

It’s night and I’ve been up since 5am.  This post may be short and cryptic.

Today ended with words of wisdom:

The tree is an excellent teacher for one seeking truth.  It serves as a true model.  Consider that when the wind blows, there is no tree that moves in the opposite direction.

When you are seeking the answer to a question, look to a tree.