God bless the blooms that we didn’t even know about <3
Several years ago I added a purple shamrock to our plant collection. While the green one Russ gave me our first St. Patty’s Day here in this house continued to thrive, my new addition did not live more than a year.
It was scraggly and leggy. I tried to trim it according to my google search results so that it would flourish, but alas it floundered under my care.
The turquoise blue pot that had been its home was relegated to the “garden shelf” in the garage where pots and dirt go to die until I need one for a new plant.
This summer, I got creative and planted some moss rose in it to add to our front area.
Imagine my surprise when watering a few weeks ago to discover this little die-hard popping its Irish face up to greet the sun.
And speaking of rose moss, it has become a favorite plant to put in pots on the patio the past few summers and look who is having babies this year.
Then there is this cute guy whose family line was planted last summer in this same planter but failed to bloom due to so much early rains here on the prairie. The nasturtium seeds I planted barely popped up their heads and never bloomed. Instead they wilted from all the moisture and lack of sun and I just pulled them up and planted something else but now…
it seems one lone survivor has emerged to greet the sun under the shadow of the hibiscus.
Volunteer plants.
According to Webster, they grow spontaneously without direct human control or supervision especially from a seed lost from previous crops. *
A seed lost from a crop planted long ago.
Dormant they have laid.
Temporarily inactive but still capable of being activated.
Unseen.
Forgotten.
Dead to human eyes.
And yet given the right set of circumstances in just the right timing, with the needed light and water and temperature, they push up through the soil and emerge to bring joy to one who didn’t even know such a thing was possible.
Amen <3
*volunteer plant definition – Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, 1973, G. & C. Merriam Company