I have a story for you today. A true one. It really happened, this week ...
On a high-up window ledge and given to me by one of the most creative young women I have ever met, it was just the outline of the orchid I could see. And my heart sank. "Look after it!' she had admonished with a merry and teasing smile, as she said goodbye. "I'll know if you don't!". It had bloomed beautifully, as slender and graceful as its giver; then settled down to two green leaves.
I watered it gently from time to time, and there it remained, in natural light and out of direct sun as the instructions required, doing nothing, week in, week out, month in, month out. Just sitting, dull and uninspiring. I know how you feel, I used to tell it. We're not alone, you know. Last Saturday, I looked at it closely. Perhaps, I thought, it needs a really good soak. So I gave it plenty of water ...
"I am so sorry", I whispered. "What has happened to me, has happened to you". I could hardly bear to look at it. Did she know, I wondered, the giver? Somewhere along the creative ether could she sense it?
I couldn't leave it there forever. Yesterday, I took a deep breath, lifted it down, and carried it out to the recycling bin. Over the shelter of my curved hand swooped a gust of wind and sleet, whirling away one of the crisp, dried-out leaves. And there, underneath, I glimpsed this ...
It is back on the window-ledge, high up, in natural light and out of the sun. I have hopes for it, and for me. I'll keep you posted :).
Beautifully written! I am loving the metaphor... Can't wait to read more about this rebirth :)
Posted by: Nathalie | Thursday, 21 November 2013 at 10:19 PM
I hope it has spurred you, sounds like it might have. Best wishes, Jen.
Posted by: Jen Hart | Thursday, 21 November 2013 at 10:45 PM
Oh yes, yes, yes! How fabulous to see that little shoot tenuously poking its head through the undergrowth ... a new beginning for all!
Posted by: Amy | Thursday, 21 November 2013 at 10:46 PM
Oh my goodness, Alexa, this is such a lovely post. Just beautiful.
Posted by: Deb @ PaperTurtle | Thursday, 21 November 2013 at 10:58 PM
Lovely photos and words. I'm curious to see how it grows
Posted by: Cate | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 03:54 AM
Another lovely short story, beautifully told. I hope the creative mojo returns to you soon. Looking forward to your updates :) Pxx
Posted by: Paul B | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 09:00 AM
A little sign of hope. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
Posted by: Sian | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 09:15 AM
I hope it manages to stretch out and keep on keeping on but ... if it doesn't ... and it ends up back in the compost bin, at least it will get to spend the winter in the dark and warm and then get the opportunity to nurture some other new shoots in the spring! x
Posted by: Julie K | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 09:58 AM
Orchids are tricky; it's all about finding the right spot. In our house, it's the window sill above the kitchen sink. My 2 orchids flower all year round there.
There is hope.
Posted by: Ruth | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 11:54 AM
Just lovely Alexa and, like Nathalie, I really love the metaphor.
Posted by: Miriam | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 12:24 PM
Lovely tale and a lovely metaphor. Perhaps we could post the photo over our desks to remind ourselves that those times of rest are needed for the next creative burst!
Posted by: Karen | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 01:08 PM
Just the reminder you needed perhaps, that hope springs eternal - in every season.
Posted by: Susanne | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 02:51 PM
Isn't it amazing how readily we can all relate to this post? Beautiful words and images Alexa! And I have to tell you - my orchid plant is still in the two green leaves just sitting there stage. I have no idea if I am providing the right light, the right amount of water. But I also have hope that some day I will see another bloom.
Posted by: Cheri | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 02:54 PM
I hope it is the start of a new 'blooming' for you both.
Posted by: Jacky S | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 07:15 PM
Just look at that shiny new leaf poking through. A true tale of how a little tlc is what we all need from time to time.
Posted by: Debs14 | Friday, 22 November 2013 at 08:06 PM
Such lovely writing today! A really nice connection documented between you and the giver. Thanks for sharing,
Rinda
Posted by: rinda | Saturday, 23 November 2013 at 07:04 AM
Oh, Alexa, so needed to hear your story today.......its given me a little air under my wings....thank you......off to tackle the mess that is the house now......wishing you well xxxxx
Posted by: Helen | Saturday, 23 November 2013 at 10:38 AM
So lucky you didn't throw it away at once. Just water from the bottom in future. And keeping them out of direct sunlight is a myth. Mine thrive on the kitchen and bathroom windowsills and the sunlight has been enough to fade my red canisters to pink!
Actually that should have read used to - I was given an orchid which turned out to be infested and contaminated the other two in the kitchen! A costly gift!
Posted by: Julie J | Saturday, 23 November 2013 at 11:17 AM
Oh I recognise those feelings - thank you for sharing and I'm glad you spotted that shoot.
Have you given it some orchid food as well? I found the information at Kew terribly interesting when we went to an orchid festival once. I'm only allowing very easy to grow things at the moment.
Posted by: Missus Wookie | Saturday, 23 November 2013 at 04:24 PM
Beautiful beautiful post. So many dear friends in the blog world are vocalising what I am feeling at the moment. Thank you for sharing this. Take care.
Posted by: Abi | Sunday, 24 November 2013 at 12:06 AM
Considering that I worked in a nursery/garden centre I can kill all houseplants very quickly. Mr M tells people not to give me plants unless they are plastic. A little harsh I feel, but true. How lovely that your orchid won't let you give up.
Thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Ladkyis | Sunday, 24 November 2013 at 11:51 AM
I love this Alexa, rebirth and growth is the most inspiring and hopeful thing. Thank you for sharing xxx
Posted by: Sinead | Sunday, 24 November 2013 at 08:31 PM
Beautifully written x I recognise those feelings xxx
Posted by: sheena x | Monday, 25 November 2013 at 02:42 PM
It may sound silly but the glimpse of green made my heart flutter, there is always hope and strength lies beneath the soil sometimes, deep in our roots :)
Posted by: Beverly | Monday, 25 November 2013 at 05:16 PM
Thank you for sharing such an inspiring story. I like the connection you make between your feelings and the health of the flower. I hope each of you will enjoy a reblooming in the near future. As for the giver--if she sensed the orchid's near demise, perhaps she also senses your renewed interest in her gift.
Posted by: Wanda | Wednesday, 27 November 2013 at 11:04 AM
Lovely writing and I hope that this sign of hope helps you along your way x
Posted by: Becky | Thursday, 28 November 2013 at 02:03 PM
It's Thanksgiving Day, and our family eats an early dinner instead of lunch. Just now there is a lull between the hectic preparations and all the guests arriving for the meal. I wanted to take some of that time to visit my blogging friends. I needed to say thank you. Thank you for the inspiration you provide here in your place and for the comments you leave behind when you visit mine. Happy Thanksgiving, friend.
Posted by: Relyn | Thursday, 28 November 2013 at 09:38 PM
What a beautiful post Alexa. So glad you noticed that little bit of green.
Posted by: Gail | Tuesday, 03 December 2013 at 07:34 PM
This post really touched me Alexa.... something so delicate and fragile, yet strong and resilient. Wishing you strength in both of your recoveries and regrowth xxx
Posted by: sandie | Thursday, 12 December 2013 at 11:08 PM