Plants and I

Thetulip bulbsI planted in January sprouted a little while ago.

Since they were handed out at an event, I don't even know what color flowers will bloom. I had left them alone for a long time after receiving them, and I put them in the soil as a last resort after they had already sprouted dry shoots and roots. The soil was reused and had zero nutrients. Even after planting them, I didn't take any special care of them and just left them alone. It's amazing that they showed their faces without being discouraged by the poor environment.

I've liked plants since I was a child. But after killing a few, I became afraid of killing them and couldn't bring myself to grow them anymore. After I got married, my mother-in-law told me, 'It's fine to learn through failure,' which somehow made me feel lighter, and I started growing them again. And what I realized after failing many times is that 'I can have a long-term relationship with plants that can adapt to my lazy care.' I feel sorry for the plants that were sacrificed. Through those great sacrifices, I've come to understand that I don't get along with plants in the pepper family, and that even plants that seem dead have a chance of reviving, so the probability of me killing them has decreased.

Since I'm lazy and basically leave them alone, I think it's a pretty tough environment for flowers that need a lot of fertilizer. However, the gerbera that my mother forced me to take care of has survived for years in a lackluster state without ever blooming.

The photo below shows tulips that have been planted for many years. They wake up every spring from a pot that I never dig up and that just serves as a container for dirt during the winter.

Was it in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic? The annual pansies I planted with them died in the winter, and when I left them until the following spring because it was a hassle, they came out. Since then, they have been alive, sometimes blooming every year and sometimes not. Moreover, there are more of them than I originally planted. Originally, it was a container garden, and I should have only planted three bulbs. Don't plants think, 'It's such an environment, maybe I should stop sprouting'? Even if they didn't bloom, no one would complain if they just slept until next year. Or perhaps they can't sleep that conveniently due to their structure, so they work hard to get up for the sake of living? In any case, I'm happy when sprouts appear from a pot where I didn't know if they were alive or dead. Thinking that they will accompany me again this year makes me feel affectionate toward them. You might get angry and tell me to take care of them, but I'm lazy, after all. What can't be helped, can't be helped. I find the charm of gardening in the flexibility and resilience of plants that adapt to the environment to some extent even without much attention.

When it comes to human relationships, the distance I have with plants is just right for people I find troublesome. It's best to watch over them while keeping a little distance.

I've decided to take the fact that the flowers bloom during the new life support season as advice from the plants.