A Test of Roots

A gnarled tree root had buckled the asphalt ahead, jutting outward like an ancient barricade. Most would step around such an uneven fracture. Hmph. Unacceptable. I wedged my left boot directly into the narrow crevice beneath the lifted tarmac and seized the thick root bark with both hands. It was rigid and dried, entrenched deep within the earth. I squared my shoulders, locked my knees, and pulled with steady, upward torque. The timber refused to snap, but a shower of dislodged gravel skittered across the pavement as the fissure widened. A formidable anchor. This ground has backbone.