I used to think that any plant I touched would surely die. But ever since I planted my bonsai, a Brazilian rain tree, four years ago, I’ve been gratified to discover that I’m actually pretty good at this.
My little tree is thriving, especially this summer. New leaves appear almost daily, requiring some careful, frequent pruning for it to retain its classical bonsai triangular shape. You’re supposed to be able to see the structure of the tree through the leaves, but I haven’t trimmed it back quite enough. That can wait until the fall.
Visiting it every morning is a pleasure, because it forces me to slow down and appreciate what has sprouted over the past 24 hours. I also love to check it in the evening, when its compound leaves fold up like a book as the sun sets. This can also happen if my bonsai is stressed from too much wind or cold, prodding me to take it inside—an ongoing conversation.
This is not to say that I haven’t lost a few plants in the meantime. Only parsley remains in a potted herb garden that was a gift a year ago, but some tiny sage leaves finally seem to be sprouting. I’m also trying to rescue some mint, another gift, which failed to thrive, though it is beginning to revive in a pot.
These days, when so much stress and angst seems unavoidable, watching Nature work its miracles is a welcome and necessary respite. Whether in a pot or a garden or a nearby park. Dear Reader, I hope you find your own green patch of calm.
P.S. Regarding the outcome of my MacGyver solution for a Pilates reformer foot-bar pad, unfortunately, the pool noodle core was too narrow, so it didn’t fit over the foot bar, but it did fit over the wooden dowel that we use for some hand work. Not a total loss. On to finding padded Pilates shoes . . .
Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.