Plant Spirit

The month of snow and strong winds sweeps in my feelings of guilt towards all plants I have neglected and mistreated during the past year. My house plants suffer most during the summer months when I give all my attention to their outside cousins. Trailing basket greenery is left too close  to  sunlit windows and withered brown leaves appear. Last summer the blazing hot rays melted the plastic container of a Christmas cactus. Clumps of brown stems dropped like burn flesh onto my living room floor. I tried to revive it by moving it outside to a shady spot and soaked it with jets of cold water with the garden hose. But the damage was done, rotting stems continued to fall.

My English Ivy, a luxuriant green, turned to dried greyish twigs. In trying to please my outside plants I had neglected my loyal interior friends. To atone for my negligence I adopted a new Ivy, two actually, one green and the other variegated, and placed them in a new pot. I promised them to be there for them.


I took  pictures like most parents do with their new babies and placed the pot beside the others. A surprise when I viewed the pictures later. The other plants had welcomed the new one. A misty green haze of plant spirit circled  the new arrival.










About Murielle Cyr

Writer, organic gardener, soapmaker, listener.
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2 Responses to Plant Spirit

  1. SjSchafer says:

    I have a lot of plants inside and out, too. I feel that they are living beings and I love them. A couple have been saved from relatives who have since passed. They are a reminder to me of their former “parents.” Today, my hubby told me that he cut the very top of my bamboo plant (about 6 ft tall) because it was brown… and I felt a twinge, as though it had been painful. I have a bunch of trays of babies right now that are getting ready to go into some gardening boxes we are designing. Happy gardening :0))

    • Yes, February deepens my urge to put my hands in the earth. I read a Russian poet once who said– “Taking a handful of earth in the spring is like taking your mother’s hand.” I’ve always felt that connection. I’m going to have to limit myself to my inside friends for now, but I know roots and seeds have started their slow movement beneath the snow.


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