I noticed this cottonwood tree at Zion National Park earlier this summer. When I looked closer, there was no soil under the tree itself! It had been washed away by seasonal floods, but the tree’s stout roots grew deep into the ground to support it.
It’s one of the moments I remember so clearly. I was driving in the car with a dear friend a few months after my father passed away. I had helped my mom sort through his office, deleted his cell number, wept when a military convoy drove by (he was career military), and had been processing “goodbyes” in countless other ways.