I believe nasturtiums are my favorite teacher.
I have written about them often on this blog.
I can’t imagine a summer garden without cascades of lily pad leaves and brilliant blooms.
The picture above was taken about a month ago.
It is the overflow from an unexposed pot not captured in the frame.
The pot was planted twice.
The main plant floundered.
But the single seed of the nasturtium did not.
If the photograph were taken today, you would see dozens of flowers.
If you looked closer at pot’s rim, you would witness a single fraying stem acting as the
support system for this plant.
A few steps back with a glance down and to the right,
you would see a barren patch of dirt.
In July, it was full of nasturtium volunteers.
Seeds erupted from last season’s bounty.
One day they were glorious, the next day withered.
Beauty strangled by a legion of pests on the underside of the leaves.
I surveyed the damage and yanked handfuls of plants and gave them a new
name: yard debris.
A vacant spot of dirt in the midst of summer’s abundance.
Appearances can be deceptive.
There is the continual cycle of life and death.
Sprouts of life in the grass and if my lens had widened, there is more evidence of life
mingling with earth.
I am prone to give up.
I can be impatient when my expectations are dashed.
I am apt to dismiss something as useless and dead when I only
see in part.
I forget the beauty and only see what is marred.
Pots and plots each containing soil,
filled with promises of the season.
Each planted with a lesson.
Summer school lesson #12:
Not every seed will flourish in the same soil.
A really good seed carries the load by remaining anchored.
The pests of life may have you in a strangle hold,
don’t give up.
Uproot what is necessary.
Wait for new growth from seeds birthed from the trial.