A Journey To My Garden

I was inspired to write this post after reading Andrea’s thoughts at Harvesting Hecate on celebrating the harvesting season. This is my post in celebration.

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It’s almost October. I sit and try to look at the past. At first, I don’t see anything of relevance, but then I stare harder and see good memories taking shape in the invisible before me.

A year has moved in this house, but I miss the old place. I miss the vicinity which had multiple parks in it. The parks always invited me with their cheerful flowers. I had adored their companionship and their beautiful space.

The new home is good, however, concrete blocks surrounds the place. I like whites but I miss the greens of the nature.

“Charity begins from home,” they say. So I thought, why cry about something that I can’t do anything about; why not focus on something that I can do, instead. And so, a thought of a terrace garden germinated in my mind. But there was only one problem — I’m no gardner, I told myself. Having zero knowledge about gardening, I dropped the idea and didn’t even bring a single plant home.

In March of this year, my mom visited us. She surprised me with a pot of fully grown aloe vera plant. I was both happy and angry. Angry, because she had travelled a long way and all I wanted from her was to travel light. Happy, as my subconscious mind had intelligently played and surprised me with this gift. So, I accepted it with great happiness.

Every action has a reaction. I had completely failed to see the consequence that I had invited by adopting that one plant.

Misery loves company,” they say but I’m sure that my one plant was seeking for more green beings for itself.

It all starts from one tiny step, and so it started from one small plant. I went to the nursery and got some sturdy plants. Since it was March – April and we were proceeding towards hot Indian summers I needed some strong plants for my so-called garden.

I bought a reddish orange hibiscus and some green croton. I was happy. They were growing nicely.

my croton plant

When you have taken one successful step you need to stand firm and not run, but I did just that. My enthusiasm had captivated me and I bought two — one red and one white rose plants. It was a good purchase as they were in full bloom.

Disaster struck! And it didn’t happen gradually. One day I woke up to a horrifying scene. If plants could suffer from yellow fever then they were already in its tight grip. In two days, yellows too, had disappeared and given themselves to a bare brownish bush.

I’m not a gardner, but I wanted to save my new buddies. My desperate attempts made me seek help from the wise master Google. I also visited the temples of Youtube multiple times. I was losing time. Then a decision was made.

With nervous breath and a racing heart, I took a pair of scissors and did some light pruning on my friends. Just like a quack doctor I had complete faith in the survival of my patients but couldn’t guarantee the success of this surgery. Nevertheless, I was proud of myself. I had an exhilarated feeling, as if, I had extended myself to help a human being come back to life. I wanted to share this proud moment with my mom and so I called her. To my horror she revealed that I had committed a crime by pruning the roses in the months of April — the peak summer time. You see, it wasn’t a complete revelation to me because I knew that already, but I just wanted some consolation that I had taken the right step. Anyways, after the call had ended a thought stuck to my mind that whatever I had done was for the good of my plants, and I was surrounded by an illusionary belief that my plants would come back to life.

Days passed. Months passed.

My heart started sinking. “What had I done,” I thought. But the hope was still dwelling in my heart — I had not given up, yet.

Every morning at 6, I got up to water the plants. My eyes longingly scanned them for a different reality in them. Nothing happened.

My hope was now cracked.

And then, a change took place. The branches had taken a pale green colour. YES! Yes! I shouted with joy in my heart. But this time I didn’t want to share the news with anyone.

Some creepy idea crept into my mind and I started talking to them. Holding their feeble branches with my fingertips, I could recreate any scene from any movie where the doctor had advised to talk to a patient in coma for their (quick) recovery. I talked to them. I prayed to God.

Then, it was magic — when I saw, two- three green leaves had opened themselves to this world. My heart was filled with the warmth of an early morning sun and my eyes had become watery.

I Thanked God! A miracle had happened.

This time I was ready to call… my mom. It was joy. It was a victory for me. It was that moment to say… see, I was right and you, wrong, but I saved my breath from all that and when she said, “Hello!”

I said, “Mom my plants are alive. The rose plants have come back to life.”

white button rose

Months have passed since then. I look at my small garden of a countable number of pots. As one plant blooms and fades away another plant pops out its blossoms as if they are passing the baton to each other.

Looking at what I’ve achieved I’ve now become a bit daring. I’ve now started planting some herbs and veggies.

My first chilly plant, though, died suddenly like a plant heart attack of some kind. One day it was glowing green in health and the other day it had turned stiffly brown. Creepy! There was nothing to worry as I had saved some chilles from the plant. I sprinkled all the seeds. And then, it was magic, again. The chilly plant has reincarnated itself from the depth of the soil.

Baby chilly plant, veiled for protection against birds and (specially) pigeons

Now when I look at my garden, I surely feel that I’m no longer a beginner. I’ve connected well with my plants and that is all that matters.

Enjoy some pics on the way out of my garden. Thanks for visiting!

 

9 thoughts on “A Journey To My Garden

  1. Mmmm, curry leaves. Ornamental or can you actually eat (grind and eat) the leaves? I’m glad you didn’t give up, Norma. I have a long history of killing plants, and now we’ve got two different air plants (have you heard of those?) that both have been roughed up such that part of the plant has disconnected from the growing medium. Yikes. Aloe, however, I’ve got a really hardy one. Don’t know if I even could kill it. It started as a small stalk, and now it’s about 3 plants. Anyway, I love the story—continuing good luck with your “green thumb,” Norma!

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    • Oh, Leigh I can’t get enough of those leaves. Earlier I had to buy them from the market and I never could use them full which resulted in wastage of both money and leaves. I thought a hen is better to buy than buying eggs everytime, that is, only if you are lucky to take care of the hen. 😀
      Plants can be mean on us sometimes. I had tried earlier to grow some plants in the older house but had failed miserably. Sorry about your plants though, Leigh. I love aloes. They are very carefree in their spirit. No, I’m sorry but I’ve not heard of air plants. I’m guessing they might be some hardy green ones. I generally don’t know the names of the plants. I know the names of some flowering plants and for the others they are just lovely greens to me. 🙂
      Thanks Leigh, I need that luck, and wish you the same. I’m all eager to bring home some winter (flowering) plants.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Norma, I love your story about this at first fledgling garden growing in strength.
    Through trials and tribulations your love for the plants persevered and they felt it. Tender care,
    Trust and strength of life itself saved them and you.

    I love gardening and readily talk to the plants; quietly so as not to have the neighbours think I gone mad as I also talk to the birds.
    You go on, your plants look wonderful.
    miriam

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    • Thanks for reading and commenting Miriam.
      Gardening is wonderful. And to see the plants bloom after the efforts put in one really feels good.
      I hope your garden is full of colours, Miriam.

      Like

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