Lessons of life, these small plants have to, offer to us, and, it’s, an important one too! Translated…
Don’t know when, raising the succulent plants became, a trend.
One afternoon, I was strolling down the underground shopping strip, and, stopped in front of a small plant, and, I’d, suddenly understood, where that sense of healing that people talked about came from. Those chubby leaves, resembled the paws of the bear, with the lighting, the soft and thin fuzz, made me feel, extremely, calm and collected.
On the succulent plants, as I thought, the images of those potted cute things came. The healing sensation culture, made the succulent potted plants became a total trend, turning it, into a brand new sort of merchandise, they’d gotten, posted on the websites. These plants are regulars at the cafés all around, an assortments of handicraft designs of them too, the potteries. Real and fake, the fake looked, so very, real, and, how easily, human were, saved, in this mixture of what’s real and what’s fake, and, doesn’t this symbolize how we’re, squeezed too hard daily, that we needed to, look toward this small plant, to find our renewed energies?
At this moment, I stood, before the glass window, looking at the bear paw, in the temperature and humidity controlled room, hearing the salesperson tell of how to care for the succulent plants. Thinking, that, they’re, both succulent plants, and, could it be, that the ghost plant?
wonders of nature here…photo from online…
In my childhood memories, the succulent plants weren’t as precious as these. It’s a sort of a food, instead of a decorating plant. This began, with my eldest uncle who’d loved his plants as if, they were, his own children. Way before the trendy gardening came, my eldest uncle and aunt already, decorated their yard and rooftop, into small gardens. In my impressions, he was always, living in dirt. From when I was younger, I’d, watched him digging into the dirt, in the front yard, he’d told me that he was, loosening the soil by the seasons, so the flowers and trees can, grow better. He’s the kind of man that would, pluck a flower as he trekked up the mountains for you, to taste the nectars. Once, he’d had me select my favorite flower by his racks of plants, that I can take one with me. I’d only recalled that I got very excited, and ran toward that patch of flowers, but felt panic all of a sudden. Having the conditions of selective difficulty, I’d felt, anxious, of the sudden influx of the choices presented to me. In this heat, I’d, pointed toward that patch of gray off to the corners. As I walked near, the greenish purple color of the plant, made it look mysterious, the leaves were criss-crossed, like a dream catcher.
My eldest uncle laughed, “You sure do know how to pick them, this is for eating!”, he’d quickly plucked a few leaves off, ran into the house to wash them up, not long thereafter, I’d, stared at the fatty leaf, hesitant, as I, took a bite, that crisp sound, with the sour and stale juice that came onto my tongue, and, as I chewed it more, the taste turned, sweeter, perhaps, it’d, tasted like the unsweetened bell fruit, with that taste of herb to it. This discord of the appearance and taste, was impacting to me, “It’d, tasted like the bell fruit!”, my uncle’s smile became a squint in his eyes, nodded toward me satisfactorily, “This small leaf, will grow into many flowers, you got the pick!” He’d placed the leaf into the palm of my hand. Looking at the fatty leaf, I’d thought, “nice to meet your acquaintance!”, and that was when I recalled, that my very first cultivated plant, was also a succulent.
It’s, quite amazing, the parent plant stayed in a huge garden with the enriched soil, and the high humidity, did it ever imagine, that its leaves were going to, move into the lanai of a building in the city? But, it’d, lived up to the expectations, the leaves multiplied. In a couple of years, the small finger-sized leaves, became this, bush of leaves, a small garden.
Weird, how as we aged, we’d gone from a leaf from the ghost flower, into a bear claw crassula? From when I was younger, I’d believed, that life will be like a ghost plant, with the goal, worked hard, under the sun, and, get enough water, I will be able to, bloom, grow, leaf after leaf, after leaf, and successfully, bloom. But, the reality was like the wind, slapping you across the face. And after awhile, we’d, slowly, grown, into a viewing plant that’s, fearful, of getting hurt, used to, hiding ourselves, inside that transparent glass container, trading in our protective colorations, for cuteness, sitting in our, isolated, universes, preserved ourselves.
very different in appearances, but, same in “nature”, with the strong will to survive, in the harshest of all conditions! Photo found online…
Sometimes, life is like a cruel desert, turning us, into, a cactus.
I’d often forgotten, that beneath that healing image, the cacti, with the needles, are a member of the succulent plants. From succulent, into prickly, that soft fuzz no longer in existence, replacing them, the prickly needles. The flesh, through the grinds of the days, became calluses, but, the calluses, the thorns, used their stubbornness, wrapped up your heart that’s, softest and most fragile, most, easily hurt.
Hey, did you ever see a flower of a cactus? Oh yeah, it blooms too.
I’d once, owned a round and stout, cactus with the shorter thorns. Days into years, its plain looks made people think it’s, nothing more than a décor. Yet, one spring, it’d, started, budding around, with a small light hidden within. I will, never forget that morn, as the sunlight shone slanted onto the lanai, and, there appeared, a palm-sized flower out of the cactus. Bright yellow like a fire burning, but, thin as the wings of a butterfly. The petals soaked up the sun, golden, in full bloom, shown its deepest, gentleness.
At that very moment, all the memories of pain, walking through all those summers, became, light as a grain of sand.
And so, this, is the lesson that people can learn, from these plants, surely, they’re, not easy to care for, but, if you look after them well, they will, show you a side of life that’s, quite inspiring, and teach you, that weathering through the seasons of life, is something as plain as living from day to day.