Thirst

And the only plant that seems to have survived more than a very short season in our house is an aloe vera plant.  It's not been a whole year, but I'm hoping we can make it last.  I find myself internally extolling the benefits of house plants: purer air, the fact that they are symbols of growth and life.  Yet, they almost always go neglected.  Mid-way up the stairs on the way to bed I say to myself, first thing in the morning I'll water the plant and then days past before what seems like a ritual starts again as I glance up at some point during the day at the browning edges of the plant I intend to water.

A friend gave me some insight as to why the aloe vera plant may have a chance, why it might actually survive for longer than a couple months.  No wilting and dying, but thriving in the floods and droughts that characterize my plant tending habits.

Some plants it turns out are designed for just that.  So I am counting on the plump water filled leaves of my aloe vera plant to help me.  Help me adapt to its needs, maybe even develop a consistent care routine that I can stick to.

I imagined I'd tie those thoughts into some larger conversation about floods and droughts and thirst, but I am at a loss.  So I guess I'll await the next flood of thoughts or emotions that tumble out in a new poem or post, and just admire the dust until then.