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Something I've Owned photo

I was reading today how trees, though not touching directly,
talk to each other, keep aware of each other’s inhabitants,
health, overall well-being, and I mention this to my coworker,
who thinks I’m absolutely insane, and she’s right, probably,
but I send her the article about certain funghi that take root
under all forests, lines of trees, and how trees send nutrients
through underground networks, making sure that no tree
falls surrounded by the others, each of them strong and standing,
at her desk I’m huddled behind her, watching her watch the
ideas, turns to me and says, goodness, even the trees treat
each other better than we do and of course they do, it’s a
low threshold, and yet, I’m shocked, too, at this statement,
at its truth and how easily I accept it. The funghi the trees
talk through is called Mycelia, a name that feels possessive,
like it’s something I’ve owned, or worked for. And I want
to work, harder, every day, for a world where we take care
of each other, completely. That a mite eating the bark from
the bottom up wouldn’t be a sacrifice, wouldn’t end in a loss
or several. That we, all of us, would stay intertwined.


image: Doug Paul Case