The Roots Carried the Story

A flower catches the eye.

Its color.
Its shape.
Its fragrance.

It's easy to assume that's where the interesting part is.

But standing in the garden the other day, I found myself thinking that a flower is a little like a conclusion.

The visible part arrives last.

Before the bloom, there were roots finding water.
There was soil.
There were seasons.
There were countless small adjustments no one could see.

The flower matters.

It's beautiful.

But the roots are where the interesting stuff happened.

Sometimes I wonder how often we do the same thing with people.

We notice the achievement.
The performance.
The decision.
The moment everything becomes visible.

But by then, much of what made that moment possible has already occurred out of sight.

The bloom gets the attention.

The roots carried the story.