Originally uploaded by Points North.
This fern sat in a window, and over the months, under my fairly regular watering care, it died. A frond here, a frond there. Perhaps too much sun compared from whence it came, it just could not tolerate. And suddenly it was only brown, crumbly fronds. A visitor noticed, raised an eyebrow, I nodded, and she razed it. Right down to the soil, with just a few half centimetre stalks left.
I liked its container, so I left it there, in its usual place in the sun. Didn't water it once.
And one day, I saw a tiny shoot of green peeking over the top of the container. I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. The green remained. Then a second joined it. The two became multiples. And the multiples grew glacially but lushly.
I don't know what to make of it. Usually plants that die under my care stay dead. But not this one. This one loved life too much to let go. God, the sun, the ruthless pruning, one or all gave it a choice: life or death. Given that choice, it chose life. I wonder what I would do.