After cutting and removing all the branches of a 40-year-old shrub, I was left with a massive clump of roots, precisely in the center of what I had planned to make last year’s expanded vegetable garden.  Realizing that my staring at the situation accomplished nothing, I attacked.

I dug, chopped and dug some more with a shovel.  I resorted to an axe, then a saw and back to the shovel again.  I severed root after root.

In time (the next day), the root mass began to show slight movement; and I was encouraged to dig some more.

After more time (the next weekend), I was finally able to free the mass from its tentacles, and I could roll the core from its decades-long resting place.

And I was left with a hole.  A huge hole.  Much larger than I had imagined when I began the task.  I stood back and stared at my new situation. 

The cutting and chopping had changed the landscape; had altered the view beyond my expectations; and had left a gaping hole in my garden.  The area was completely useless if I didn’t fill the hole.  So I went out and bought 14 bags of dirt and manure, which cost $32.

That summer I was able to harvest one scrawny squash, two tiny tomatoes and four puny, pock-marked peppers.  In total, barely enough for a side dish.  In both time and money, these were the most expensive vegetables I’ve ever purchased.

I wonder what the cost will be to fill the holes left in our local communities after all the cutting and chopping of students’ extracurricular programs.  I wonder if the result will be as bad as I experienced in my own back yard.