The sun plants in my garden are wilting.
It has not rained in a few days and the leaves and stems of the blooms have retracted and withdrawn as if upset that the clouds have ignored them.
With the sweltering heat and the lack of water, they are begging for attention and the only way to let me know they are thirsty is to fake a faint. Once I give them some of that wanted attention and tend to their basic needs they will resurface, showing me their true stamina.
They are creatures born to be maligned by the taciturn, symbolic sentences of drought, having the resiliency to bring themselves back to life whenever their cemented roots are sprinkled with a little rain. They are most happy when they are surrounded by the gloom of a storm that somehow, literally and figuratively, whets their appetite.
If into each life some rain must fall, then these ‘plants of mistreatment’ thrive on the disdain of the elements and yearn to be ignored by the garden’s owner – namely, me.
Still, I look out to my pots of near death and see with a profound clarity the purpose of my garden. It is there to remind me of the important role that nurturing plays in our lives – it is there to suggest that we must effect reciprocal behaviors in order to give each other support and to thrive.
If you water me, I will grow for you.
If I grow for you, i will make you happy.
It is a simple premise and one that often replicates our human condition, with some waiting for the rains to find contentment, some wanting a little attention and others simply blooming under the spectrum of a little light. It is a life lesson delivered under the guise of basic gardening techniques.
Sometimes, if the morning is designed with the perfect light and is filled with the hopeful quiet whispers of a soon to bloom day, I will look out the window toward the garden and pick up these tidbits of life’s wisdom. I love these moments of unencumbered perception where by way of nature I validate my life’s forever purpose – yet again proving, that on a clear day, you can see forever.