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Spring, death and rebirth
Mar. 28th, 2019 08:43 amWe bought a pomegranate to eat with our festive dinner on New Year's Eve 2008. Pomegranates have lots of seeds, so I put a few of them in between damp paper towels to see if they would sprout. Several did, so I put them in a small pot of soil, and on Barack Obama's inauguration day, two of them emerged above the surface.
One died fairly soon, but the other grew into a two-foot-tall, gracefully cascading mini-tree, looking sorta like a weeping willow. Which died last fall. I didn't get around to throwing it out, and occasionally watered it in the vain hope that it wasn't really dead.
And it's not: as of yesterday morning, there are little green leaves popping out at all the joints. Deciduousness is a thing.
On the other hand, the African violet (or something like that) that we were given at the door on the way out of last year's Easter service appears to be really and truly dead. Death is a thing too.
One died fairly soon, but the other grew into a two-foot-tall, gracefully cascading mini-tree, looking sorta like a weeping willow. Which died last fall. I didn't get around to throwing it out, and occasionally watered it in the vain hope that it wasn't really dead.
And it's not: as of yesterday morning, there are little green leaves popping out at all the joints. Deciduousness is a thing.
On the other hand, the African violet (or something like that) that we were given at the door on the way out of last year's Easter service appears to be really and truly dead. Death is a thing too.
