Roots: A Small Tale

People, it can be argued, are not plants. They don't need to dig into the dirt and stand immobile for several hours to gain nourishment. If they want, they can leave at a moments notice simply to run to the grocery store, and be back before anyone has noticed they're gone.

But people do build roots, even if they're not easily visible. The roots of a stable job, of purchasing a house with a 30 year debt payoff. Of pets, and children who then must be watched until they are sufficiently able to take care of themselves without fear. Of going to the same restaurant so often you're on first name basis with most of the staff.

And then there are those whose roots are in the air. Who bound from place to place without cause to worry. Who wake up watching the sun rise over the canals of Venice, and dine in the moonlight of ruins. Who know the layout of cities and airports better than the people who live near them.

Sometimes though, the roles get switched. And those who happily stayed in place for so long, will go out and learn what it's like to live without roots. It might become a new permanent, or it is merely the thing needed to remind them of being rooted. And those without roots might learn what it means to stay long enough to grow some roots.