Thursday, February 02, 2006

My plant and I

In my recently temporarily-acquired cooperative lodging, there are very few alive things: usually a few humans and a sole-lonely plant. It was my mother’s plant, an old plant, tall and proud, green and strong. I love plants and I took it, put in a moving truck for about 20 minutes and brought it over to my cooperative. It didn’t like that, it didn’t like being moved from its owner and carer and its home. It froze in the truck. I thought it would be ok, I thought it would recuperate in a few days, but it hasn’t; every day it’s dying more and more.

I am not used to the sight of death, I have always been sheltered from it. But now I see it crawling, creeping slowly, and everything I do is not enough: extra water, heat, grooming, noting seems to work. And we haven’t had real sun in days, the clouds have settled over our city like a casserole lid and don’t seem to want to budge, damn annoying, sun and life blocking clouds. What did I ever do to them, what did my plant ever do to them to deserve such unfair treatment.

I still hope that it will recuperate, that its strength will come back. I’ve known this plant for many years and I will miss it. And I wouldn’t want to be the cause of its death. I wouldn’t want my wanting it to cost its existence; that would defy the logic of me wanting it.

Please come back.

Or maybe, I can take one of its branches, put in water and wait for it to grow roots, and start all over again. Over time it would re-grow to the proud living breathing creature it once was.

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