I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself and say that the drought is over, but I’m really thankful for the rain. You may remember that I was so longing for some precipitation that I wrote a poem about the rain – or rather, the lack thereof. And I ain’t no poet.
Invariably, when the drought is broken and we end up getting days of rain, most of us have to stop ourselves from complaining and remember that this is exactly what we’ve been praying for. Like I said, I don’t want to seem unappreciative, but I can’t say the same thing about some of my plants.
During the many months of little to no rain, I attempt to keep my plants alive with water from my cistern and whatever comes through the pipes. Well aware that plants don’t live by moisture alone, I caress, coddle and cajole them. I’m told that you should talk to them too, but I draw the line at that one. I’m only going to be talking to other people, or of course, to myself.
And so, the majority of my plants have survived thus far. Imagine my surprise then, when last week I see one of my plants that looked like it was barely holding on, sprout fifteen thousand new leaves and double that amount in blooms after the recent rains. And I looked at it and thought that it was the most ungrateful thing I had ever come across.
I’ve seen it happen before, and I know that the water that I dispense with my watering can doesn’t hold a candle to that which comes directly from the skies. But what a way to make my efforts seem totally unnecessary? I wonder what they’re going to do when the skies dry up again. I bet they’ll be the ones talking to me then.
But even though plants don’t actually speak, it seems that some do impart valuable information. I’ve heard that some of them mimic the status of the relationship of the person who gave it to you. Since some of the house plants that I have are given to me by other people, I have been perusing my inventory.
There’s one that I was given as a house-warming present. It was beautiful and for a time it occupied pride of place. I’m not known as a plant killer, but I eventually had to dispose of it, because despite my best efforts, it no longer blossomed under my care. It’s funny, but the relationship with the person who gave it to me went the way of all flesh too.
Another plant that I have is beautiful on top, but the leaves on the underside are not as pretty – but I’m nurturing it still – just as I am doing with the relationship of the person who gave it to me. Because I know it can be beautiful all over.
There’s another pretty popular plant that I don’t currently have that I’m told is better at determining the health of a business than any balance sheet or profit and loss statement – especially if you’re not privy to the figures.
I’m not surprised to find this vine thriving at most car dealerships and insurance companies. A not-so-healthy specimen at my doctor’s office or my bank might cause me to worry a little bit though.
Health and wealth, you know.
What do your plants say to you?