On the north side of my former house, hanging from the outside of the porch were five planters with geraniums; three red, two pink. During the spring and summer months I watered them and picked off the dead heads, as my mother called them, and dead leaves—a meditative process for me more than anything because I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to gardening. I just jump in and hope for the best because I enjoy watching plants grow.
However, one week, despite my TLC, the plants seemed to be dying. They became scraggly and really looked like they were on their way out. I considered uprooting them and putting the pots away for the season. For whatever reason, I decided to let them be.
There’s a line in the movie “Jurassic Park” where one of the scientists says “life finds a way.” Life found a way because after a week or more of inattention on my part, the geraniums once again began to bloom, colors as vibrant as ever. After that rebirth, I returned to meditatively pruning, but with an even greater appreciation for the miracle of Life.