As autumn has well and truly blown in now, I have been thinking about all the parts of nature that we can’t see. The trees will soon be bare after all the leaves have fallen. The obvious beauty of spring and summer already feels like a distant memory. It’s easy to wonder what’s left. But looking in less prominent places reveals another world of life, busying itself with activity before winter sets in. I’ve been looking down and exploring what’s underneath my feet when I’m outdoors.
Funghi are organisms that I love very much. The weird and wonderful shapes and colours draw me in. It feels like a whole universe exists underneath the ground, and when I see carpets of mushrooms popping up on the woodland floor they remind me of this incredible fact.
What goes on in the soil, below the leaves, lichens and small mammals scurrying for food pre-hibernation? I’ve been pondering this as part of a prompt in a nature group that I’m a member of* and it’s lead to even more questions. How far down do animals burrow? Is the mycellium visible to the naked eye if you dig deep enough? What can this mud and earth teach me? To answer this last question, I’ve been looking at roots.
The feeling of being more grounded is one that I’ve been chasing for a long while. Finding safety in myself and in my own body — along with gaining strength from that — is the detail of the search. It’s not about physical strength, but mental resilience and the ability to weather emotional storms without descending into a crisis. It’s about developing strong roots in order to hold myself steady and trusting that I have the inner reserves. This is what I also wish for my loved ones, in particular my three nephews who are 8, 12 and almost 15 and who are growing up in a much harsher world than the one that my brother and I experienced. How can I teach them? What wisdom can I pass on? What do I hope for them? That they nurture and trust their own strong roots. That they know they have what they need inside them and remember this in times of great challenge.
I wrote a poem for them, so that one day if they are feeling low on reserves and untethered in strong winds, they can read this and remind themselves of the safe space within.
This poem is called ROOTED and it’s for K, Z and M (and anyone else who needs it). The audio version is below the written one.
I make my way to deepest depths the light recedes, my tips outstretch fastening my strands beside the clay, the chalk, the soil inside I build my strength in fibrous string tendrils twirling out and in down and down there is no end to where this forest grows, extends Barely noticed but know I’m there a lacy maze of matted hair below the land and anchored in you cannot fathom where I begin A cyclone, hurricane or storm cannot breach my tangled form beneath the footprints, mulch and moss my work goes on through sun and frost Although I feel the bend and shake of elemental force and quake I hold my own in times of fright my stable and protecting might The gifts I give cannot be seen but felt and shared and held between I’m not alone, we are many here we are the same, our quest is clear We tend this muddy realm with care enfold the earth, help clean the air give life to stem and leaf and flower our weaving threads, our quiet power In times of strife your steadfast heart will give you courage to restart remember this you are root in ground can never be lost, only ever found
*The Stardust Collective founded and run by