I moved a big plant in my garden. I had to. And I mean really big. A yew. Nearly a three-foot root ball. And I had the semi-smart idea of watering the ground before I dug it out. Great for the yew and only added about two-hundred pounds of weight. I don’t know if you’ve ever done such a thing. I’ve done it a lot. I consider all elements of a garden as furniture.
I had been looking at this particular yew for years thinking it was in the wrong place, but I couldn’t quite figure out a solution. I had put it there, so I have no one to blame but myself. But suddenly on Monday I had the answer. Unfortunately this day came after many years of the shrub getting larger and larger in the wrong place. and the thing had become semi-enormous. No matter. The vision was pure, and perfect. The reality had to be made to match.
Moving something huge requires a type of effort that is unlike most other kinds. Required is short bursts of maximum exertion, the kind that can pop a gasket if you are not careful. It yields a surprising form of rapid exhaustion that makes me think tug-of-war is an under-appreciated sport and should be in the Olympics, unless it was and I missed it. But fanatical determination can move a lot, and yes, the result was every bit worth the effort. Now all that remains is to make this into a metaphor to justify writing about it. Something about Congress I think. You figure it out. I’m still tired.