....spreading our roots

Yogis,
It all started with a Facebook post. ‘I need plants!’ wrote a young woman a few towns over. Our paths have crossed a few times in the yoga world, but I don’t really know her. Without hesitation I commented that I had comfrey, marshmallow, burdock, anise hyssop and black eyed susans. After having just been out in my garden and seen the proliferation, I was more than happy to share.

Late that day she, along with her husband and adorable 8 month old daughter, came and we socially distance gardened, each with our own shovels and gloves. Wearing masks, we all chatted about the plants, these times and life itself. Three tubs of plants made their way into the back of their truck and just before leaving she turned and said, ‘I am now their mom and you are the grandma.’ Yes. My roots were spreading.

The next day another young woman who had seen my comment asked if she could get some marshmallow and was there anything I needed. When she pulled up to the house with some yarrow in tow, she remembered that she had been here for some classes a few years ago. Our roots weaving together one more time as she left with not only marshmallow but comfrey, oregano, anise hyssop, bergamot and burdock.

Many of these very same plants took root here when brought by others. Anise hyssop from Helen, burdock from a flower I brought back from Susun Weed’s garden, comfrey from a root given to me by an eccentric biodynamic farmer in WV in blue jean overalls as I pulled weeds from his cilantro beds.  Rhubarb from Rebecca, Lenten rose from Mary, fig from Sookie, and the list goes on. And each year as they push their heads through the warmed spring soil I think of their ‘grandma’ and smile.

My plants have traveled to the beach house in Delaware to settle into the sandy soil. Up to my sister’s in NJ, down to friends in Virginia and into neighbors’ yards. Sometimes I receive pictures of how they are doing, reminding me that I too am thought of as they grow. Roots reach wide and far.

A flower from your bush sits in a vase on my kitchen counter. Seeds from my zinnia start a new butterfly garden in your yard. And my parsley ends up in a friend’s spring salad. All gifts.

I often use the tag line #plantmedicine because of the remarkable healing properties that the plants offer day after day. But during this time when we cannot physically be together, the plants are reminding me of a level of connection that runs even deeper.  Our roots all spreading beneath the earth and weaving a web of kinship and love that only takes a thought and an inner smile to touch one another.

Need any plants?

Om,
SARAH