By Michelle Webster-Hein

February 1, 2014


I sliced a beet in half and discovered that it has rings. Rings like you would find on a tree stump to mark its age--one ring, one year.

But beets are young, have only known one spring, one summer, one early fall, perhaps also one winter passed inside in a dark, dry box. So what could each ring represent? Each season? Each snap of cold? Each grub that has burrowed blindly around its girth in the cool black soil?

It makes me much less serious to think about how much happens, silently, under my feet.

Comments (3) - Post a Comment
Love Michelle's writings. They are always so fresh and descriptive and paint wonderful word pictures
Connie at 11:09am EST - February 1, 2014
This is beautiful, and it pleased me so much to get this in my inbox today. Michelle's contemplations bring me peace and joy. Thanks for sharing them with the world!
Tavia Gilbert at 10:05pm EST - February 1, 2014
Such a simple thing as a cut beet to delve into its center. Rings. Full circle.
Thank you for it makes me write about today.
Sally at 4:15pm EST - February 4, 2014

Post A Comment

Name: (*Required)
Email: (*Required)
- Not Displayed With Comment

« Back to Beautiful-Things

Newsletter Sign Up

shadow shadow