The Root Of The Tree

The root of the tree was beneath a clump of leaves and hooked the tooth of his rake. James had been busy since the cold weather rolled in. Today, it was sixty degrees and would get warmer throughout the afternoon.

The grass cut. The hedges were trimmed. But the onslaught of leaves from the oak trees made it seem it would be next fall before he could make a dent in this year’s yard work. And then the heavy rain. It rained during the summer. Great for the grass and watered the seeds.

But it seems the clouds took the direction of the season to heart for this time of year. It wanted to make its presence felt moreso than in recent years. James’ rake scraped across a rock. Nothing new. Rocks, branches, roots. There might be anything under a clump of wet leaves. Adjust and keep it moving. He adjusted the rake and moved on. Or tried to.

Whatever he’d come across with the rake he hooked securely. James moved his rake forward, pulled back, still hooked he lifted the rake. Still hooked. It’s a sturdy plastic rake so something has to give. He could buy another rake. Then he could make a point not to break the one he has.

James drops the rake and moves the clump of leaves to find his rake is hooked to some piece of rusted metal stuck in the ground. It’s stuck deep to the point pulling the leaves away from it won’t allow him to move it. Digging around the metal object with his hands won’t free it.

This has to be removed completely. Even after he does remove all the leaves he can’t leave it this thing in the ground it will wreck the blade on the lawnmower. He hopes the shovel is where he left it. Hopefully this thing isn’t too big. Yardwork. I guess so.

James finds his shovel next to the wheelbarrow. It would do no good to simply slam the shovel into the ground to free the metal with his rake still hooked. Digging is in play whether James wants to or not. He removes the rest of the leaves and shifts the tooth of his shovel hooked into the metal.

James rakes around the general area with his hands where the metal is embedded to see where he will start digging.. On closer inspection what resembles metal is not metal at all but stone or brick.

Of what little James can see there is a design painted onto the stone. But he can’t use the shovel and risk breaking it. His wife has a plant shovel. It will be near to the fertilizer, weed and feed and hedge trimmer in the garage.

The plant shovel is just what he needs. The pointed tip he uses to carve around the unknown shape. It reveals itself with every handful of strokes. James has no idea what it is, but it’s no piece of metal and it’s not junk. He’s glad it revealed itself before he came across it with the lawnmower.

If this is a relic James is not qualified to to determine it’s quality. It simply looks like something from another time. Not necessarily a piece of art but something that people used on an everyday basis. I can’t tell as of yet. I’ve got a ways to go before I completely dig it up. The dirt is getting is getting tighter the further I dig.

This could be one of those pots, pans, or cups that a ten thousand year old civilization used. If that’s true there might be more here. The archaeologists at the state university are likely on a dig in Alaska, Mississippi, or Arizona. We’ll likely have to bring this to the archaeologists at the community college.

He first has to remove it in one piece. Just as he figured some sort of bowl. A large bowl. No pot. A large pot. It feels like stone, very smooth stone. And here’s the other handle. Okay, won’t be getting any yard work done today. At least not the kind he planned. 

It’s early in the day. If he can get this out of the ground in a handful of hours, get it cleaned up and then make an appointment with the agricultural department. James should know what he’s looking at. Of what little he can make of these paintings, it looks as if it depicts some type of celebration.

This mud would be easier to dig through. It’s been raining for the last three weeks: more digging and less jawing. Oh yeah, and it would start raining again. For a minute, he thought the sun might come out. The skies are getting darker. The lite breeze that accompanied him earlier has now picked up and is blowing the rain sideways.

No matter. As long as there’s no lightning. James is sure Alitash, the archaeologist⎯He, always butchers her last name⎯ , so he’ll have to ask for her on a first name basis, will tell him the paintings on the pot depict something different than the festive atmosphere he believes. 

Dr. Alitash Pesnikevich,

We understand that you are working in the Congo. I recently dug up a pot in my backyard that looks ancient. My wife and I didn’t want to transport it to the college and risk damaging it. We took several pictures. We would like your opinion on the pot. Please see attached.

Our intent is to donate the pot to the college or museum if it is of any value so that it can be studied. Any proceeds we would like donated to a scholarship fund to further agricultural studies. We would also like to discuss how to set up further digs on our property for we feel that there might be more pottery on our property and in the surrounding area. 

We can’t speak for our neighbors but we believe that if the pot we found does have some cultural and historical significance, we believe that you will be able to convince them to have a look underground.

Thank you,

James, Isabel and son Lucien.