Planted in Time

....A short story, that wont be so short hopefully soon. It might become a novel who knows. All I know is I've got to get writing.

Planted In Time

As simple as one forthright question it all began. I asked my mother for a plant. A flowery blossoming green living breathing one. She said that the sea air breezing through my window would be an unsuitable atmosphere for an organism such as this. But as always some deep desperation in her heart to prove herself right and me wrong, or maybe just to soothe my agitation for having such a sterile living environment, she visited me and brought a plant. To my dismay it wasn’t a beautiful flowering species, but rather a small self contained spider plant, with strong vibrant leaves, and some small white flowers. Beautiful and non-descript. It fit.

It created the homey feeling on my otherwise blank dirty-cream colored walls, and a distraction to the abomination that was my roommates half of the rectangled room. If there was ever an invisible but tangible line drawn across a territory than I’m sure it was in this room.

It could be physically lifted out of the pot, and its roots showing, as dry as the August grounds back home, the leaves still strong and green, reminiscent of a nourished green house specimen. As the seasons changed with stale sea winter chills and isolation the plant would seem to be doomed.

Two years later it reminds me of the first year of the life of the plant, and of my life--as a 20-year-old , I sit by the window looking out towards the mountains and the setting sun that always peaks over the steeple, with the miraculously living plant reaching towards the setting sun. It was thirsty for sunlight, and certainly water. I was tired for sleep.

A horticulturist told me these plants can live to ten years and above. I don't even know where I will be in ten years. Ten years after my first week of college.