Thinking About Plants

At Thanksgiving, R and Bre gave me a pretty little fern with a winter-print box over its plastic pot. Looked great for a centerpiece and I used it all during the month of December on the table. When it was not in use, I put it in the kitchen window.

I have to say, I did feel a little bad about putting it in the kitchen window. That spot seems to doom all plants to death. I don't know why. I thought it was the temperature, like maybe the window was getting too cold. But plants die there in the summer, too. I thought maybe it was the amount of light. But I'd call that spot part-sun. I thought maybe it was steam coming up from the coffee pot that killed them. But moving the coffee pot didn't really help.

Whatever the reason, plants don't last long there. Unfortunately, I have nowhere else in the house that they won't get eaten. When I use the plant as a centerpiece, for example, both cats' faces light up like salad was their favorite dish. Any other window in the house is fair game for plant-eaters, too. I think the kitchen window is just too inconvenient for them to jump up and eat my fern.

So, I've been pretty happy that this little fern has been doing so well for so long. Today, however, it's looking a little sickly. I think my luck has run out with it. It's very limp and sad-looking.

Back in the 70's, when I was a teenager, there was a lot of talk about how talking to plants was good for them, that they could pick up on your love and nurturing. I wonder if that is true. (I've always assumed it was the extra CO2 of your breath that they liked.)

Hey little fern. How's it going, bro?

I'll let you know how it works.