02/16/2026
Getting grounded is a real challenge in a time of ice. For the last three weeks we’ve been skidding on a hard pan of snow a foot-and-a-half above ground, getting shoveled out and shoveling others out; for longer we’ve joined others to defend and tend community from the invasion of deputized bounty hunters. Ancient frozen water gushes as ice caps melt from global burning while funds for life-giving entitlements are frozen and funding caps for frontier cops and concentration camps thaw to unprecedented levels. In disaster zones, so many people rapidly respond to keep beloveds safe, in times of natural ice and the militarized kind that kidnapped the name.
What’s the point of growing trees when you can’t get grounded? More honestly, when I can’t get grounded? I shared here about a recent trip to P@lestine, where I visited a vital seedbank. A few weeks after I returned, soldiers invaded this organization, bound and gagged the people, sealed the offices, and destroyed the seeds.
What’s the point of growing trees when getting grounded is impossible, because the ground can be ripped out like a rug or frozen over? I suppose one point is the radical point of the root and shoot. I stay steadfast with roots and shoots, memory and possibility. Trees remind me of my responsibility to organize with a deeper view of time, and growing them reminds me of two perspectives I keep close together. João Paulo Rodrigues, a leader of the Landless Workers Movement, said “It is impossible to produce ‘healthy’ food in a land so full of exploitation.” Angela Davis, interviewed while incarcerated, said the complementary inverse: “The idea of freedom is inspiring. But what does it mean? If you are free in a political sense but have no food, what’s that? The freedom to starve?” Growing trees should be grounded in a land free of exploitation so people are free to eat and be healthy.
Spring sales are open (link in bio). Hundreds of trees are tucked under ice, memory and possibility. Roots rest under the insulation of snow, frozen over the sawdust and woodchips that keep them moist. As ice melts, the radical underground will turn green and sprout, making it a little easier to get grounded.