Today we were talking about it when his face lit up and he realized that every time he drains the tub (quarterly at least) he runs all of the water right onto the roots of the tree on the west side of the pad. He was causing his own problem by over-nourishing the tree that had big, fat healthy roots right under the cement pad the hot tub sat on.
All of this on the same day I sat on the porch of an older woman in my neighborhood for an hour, talking about being a parent to my adult children. Talking about nourishing. Talking about the motherly instinct to feed and clothe and nurture. How too much water poured right onto the roots could possibly mess with the cement and throw the level off in a hot tub.
Finding a way to pour it on, but not pour it on. Offering love and shelter and help until my sons' roots are firmly planted and ready to soak in their own sustenance. So I stand there with the watering can, and tip my arm when it seems right.