It starts out no bigger than a little, skinny hair,” David Jordan said to me. “Just a small root.”

Mr. Jordan and I were standing in my front yard, gravely contemplating the hole where my azalea bushes had been two hours before and the 4-foot length of sewer pipe that had just been chopped out of the line. Mr. Jordan, who is my plumber (and a damn good one), was explaining the origins of my $850 plumbing problem, which manifested when clods of dirt showed up in my bathtub while I was draining my washing machine.

The problem is that water and sewer lines are, obviously, like a standing buffet for trees, and trees are persistent. A tiny, micro-hair of a root finds the smallest crack in a joint. Attracted and nourished by the water, the rootlet grows and splits and sprawls, picking up debris in the line until it has created such a snarl that a good flush (or drain of the washing machine) backs up your whole system.

And, as Mr. Jordan would say, there’s your trouble.

I think it’s a beautiful metaphor.

And, speaking of insidious logjams, we’re about to elect new mayors, commissioners and council members from Marshville to Marvin this week.

I had the honor of moderating a candidates’ forum hosted by the Marvin Ridge High School PTSO last week.

It was particularly interesting because audience members were invited to submit questions after I asked the excellent ones posed by the MRHS Debate Club.

The audience questions ranged from the benign (“What distinguishes you from the other candidates?”) to the razor-tipped (“Are any of the candidates running for Council developing subdivisions inside Marvin, or working for companies that are? If so, do you consider this a conflict of interest?”).

In fact, two of the candidates — Robert Epps and Richard Keagy — fielded a series of sharp questions. Mr. Epps, who developed the Elysian Fields subdivision, was queried about a zoning battle with the Planning Board. Mr. Keagy, a civil engineer who was hired as a consultant for Longview South, argues that his experience will help the village as it rewrites its land use plan, perhaps adding small sections of retail.

One mistake is assuming that it’s the developer and engineer that pose the primary danger. Most of the candidates voiced some degree of interest in light retail, and it’s a sure bet that Marvin will be redrafting its land use plan in the next year.

Wouldn’t it be nice, Mr. Epps said, to be able to ride bikes with your kids around the Marvin loop, maybe go get an ice cream cone or a haircut? There were nods up and down the table, and throughout the audience.

This is other mistake: Thinking that “redrafting the land use plan” will be anything but a knock-down, drag-out fight, for all that it comes topped with a scoop of mint chocolate chip.

There are at least a few village residents who see the ice cream shops and hair salons that Mr. Epps evoked as the questing rootlet that presages an expensive, messy and mystifying correction further down the road.

It’s a legitimate concern.

It carries weight because it’s voiced by residents who have engaged in tireless fights with strip mall and megastore developers since Marvin was chartered 15 years ago. Their vigilance is why Marvin has horse farms and instead of high-end strip malls, and their absolute opposition to commercial zoning makes a certain kind of sense.

I wouldn’t say it’s impossible to draft land use rules that are specific enough to keep out a biker bar while allowing a corner coffee house, or permit a book store but ban a head shop. I would say that there’s a trade-off, and it requires wise, cautious leadership.

And maybe a plumber.

— Betsy O’Donovan can be reached at 704-261-2223 or bodonovan@theej.com.