shamrock

 

After sev­er­al months of hiber­na­tion my pur­ple sham­rock is grow­ing again, in full speed, as if catch­ing up for lost time. At the end of every fall, every leaf and stem would wilt. Then around day­light sav­ing time I would start water­ing it, water­ing a pot of dried dirt, believ­ing that the bulb under­neath the soil, the source of life that I can’t see, is still alive and will sprout again. And it does, every spring for the past three years.

On Mon­day I found the young leaves just begin­ning to take shape and open up.

 

Today the leaves are com­plete­ly opened. Their colours much more sat­u­rat­ed and they’re stand­ing tall.

 

Well, their stems are also very gan­g­ly. I will need to add some new soil and fer­til­iz­er. You can prob­a­bly tell I’m not a very good gar­den­er.

The pur­ple sham­rock is called a sham­rock because it looks like a sham­rock. But, of course, it’s not a sham­rock. The species is called Oxal­is Tri­an­gu­lar­is, and their open leaves close up at night like lit­tle umbrel­las.

Leg­end has it that a pot of gold can be found at the end of the rain­bow. Well, in my house today I found a pot­ted plant returned from the dead at the end of a long win­ter. The promise of spring and regrowth, even though it appears to be all ruined. That brings me hope.

I hope you find your own rain­bow and pot of gold today. Hap­py St. Patrick’s Day!

 

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