Day 24
Right now, on my windowsill, I have little pots of window herbs that produce promise. A red pot, a few green ones, a brown. Only the pot with eggplant is being coy and not sprouting its seeds. Maybe it never will. As for the others, they hold the sprouted hope of tomatoes, cilantro, artichoke (if I can grow it once it’s outdoors), dill, and sorrel.
Some of these I won’t end up planting outside. The dill. The cilantro. I never seem to be able to protect these from the slugs that be. And, anyway, I’ve come to consider the need for living greens right in my kitchen. I even have a little crystal jar that’s holding a whole wild violet, its roots floating in the clear water, its leaves springing upward towards the window light.
There are impressive health benefits to keeping plants in the home. Beyond that, I’ve also found that keeping herbs growing in the house throughout the winter has been a lovely way to make our food more tasty. A snip of fresh rosemary. A few crushed leaves of fresh basil. They’re a small dose of heaven come down, right over the lentils or hummus or into our soups. Plus, many herbs are medicinal.
All that said, what I love most is the beautiful green. The liveliness. The hope. Such a small thing, right there on the windowsill. And yet, so large.
Writing Prompt
Do you keep plants inside your home? If so, are any of them fruits, vegetables, or herbs? We have a small lemon tree that gives us one or two lemons per year, depending on its mood. A pot of rosemary. Another of basil. And, now, many new herbs and vegetables sprouting by the windowsill, some of which we’ll keep inside regardless of the weather outdoors.
Write a poem about the herbs, fruits, or vegetables you are currently growing indoors or would like to grow. For a little poetic fun, play with alliteration and assonance as you go (in other words, play with the repetition of initial sounds and internal vowel sounds).
Lemon Tree
Lovely lemon,
lively on the radiator
all through winter
you woo us with your
promise of sweet
sourness, your yellow
wonder. And we do.
Wonder, that is.
How long it will take
until your tasty treat
will be ours. Months
and months and months
we wait. This year
you gave us one
precious, perfect,
positively palatable
lemon. Luscious
and, blessedly, free.
