Archive for March 14th, 2010

I am thrilled the Norfolk Pine is thriving in our house.  We bought it two Christmases ago and put it outside when it warmed up.  I does not like temperatures below sixty.

It lost quite a few branches when we bought it.  It was our Christmas tree that winter.  I did not entertain too much hope that it would survive another winter inside.  We placed it in another spot where it would get more light.

I was so happy when I observed it was doing well in the new spot.  It no longer was losing leaves.  In fact, it was growing–always a good sign the plant liked the spot it was placed in.

Now we will put it out again when it warms up.  I am so happy it is still alive.  I never expected to live once we had to bring it in again.  It did so poorly the first year it was in.  This was a little thing but isn’t life composed of many small pleasures?

Death and renewal are connected:  the lesson my plants taught me.  I watch my house plants closely.  Right now I am watching my rubber plant.  So many leaves have dried up.

I keep giving it more water–to no avail.   It is in a warm room.  I noticed it has become taller.  It is stretching to capture the sunlight.  Although many leaves have dried up, it is not dead by any mean.

Plants adjust to their environment all the time.  Some leaves dry up.  Sometimes you may not water one enough so some leaves die so other can get enough water.  There is a close relationship between death and renewal.

That is one lesson I can learn watching my plant’ growth.  Those two are always connected.  Sometimes there can’t be renewal until there is death.  We can learn that lesson from observing our houseplants.

Sometimes that means you have to give up a goal and shift your attention elsewhere.   Or someone dear to you may die before you start to grow again.

The same pattern always follows.  In the words of Bob Dylan, and this is a paraphrase from one of his songs:  you have to be busy dying before you can live.

And no one said there would be no pain in the process.  There is just part of it.  From death, comes birth.  It is that simple.  A lesson observing plants (and nature) taught me.

I know spring must be coming I want to go fishing.  I am ready to get my fishing license.  I don’t like fishing in the cold but the weather has been gradually warming so I am ready.  Most days are in the forties and fifties occasionally hitting the sixties so I am thinking about it.  I will take out my tackle box and check all my equipment.  I know the first day that hit seventy and the sky is a deep blue I will want to be somewhere casting my baited line.  I am ready.