that grew in very difficult circumstances, heavily filtered light and surface soil with bad drainage. When a tiny seedling this tree found a safe place on a nurse log. The nurse log provided nourishment, a boost from the underbrush, a bit more access to light, and protection.
After a time, the seedling developed its own roots and could take care of itself, and later still, as is inevitable in the circle of life, the nurse log disappeared completely, leaving a healthy, thriving tree behind.
I was asked to find a picture from a magazine, etc. that I felt illustrated my relationship with my mom. When I saw this one, it kinda spoke to me. It's not a perfect anology, but there is no such thing, is there?