“Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him!”
– Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900), German philosopher

I don’t feel like I have enough plants. I see one that needs some love, one that catches my eye, one that is on sale, or one that I actually have to hunt for to see and I’m smitten. I’m taken in by the various greens of the leaves, the shapes and textures of each plant calls to me. I have some plants that I’ve had for over 15 years. These plants have been through everything with me. They have survived numerous moves, traveling in hot moving vans, passing through Arizona deserts, Colorado winters, California humidity, and everything in between. Sometimes I’m amazed that they are still with me. Other plants are special simply for the reasons that they’ve come to me.

I have one ficus rubber plant that is probably the most meaningful plant that I have. It was given to my brother and his wife when my niece, Willow, was born. My brother offered to me, claiming that his black thumb would surely kill it. It was large when I got it, standing nearly 2 feet tall. Now, 3 ½ years later, it stands nearly 4 feet tall. It hasn’t been an easy relationship. This plant is extremely picky about environment. Leaves have folded in on themselves, leaves have dropped, and stems have become leggy. It’s still around, though, and reminds me of Willow every time I look at it. I currently have over 70 indoor plants. I live in a small house of 545 square feet. There is a plant everywhere I look. My mom once said that I might as well turn my house into a greenhouse. What I wouldn’t do for a greenhouse.

I don’t feel like I have enough plants, though. Well, that’s not true. I know I have more than enough plants for now (that’s why I need to buy a bigger house. Heh!).

It’s just…well…I go anywhere and I see a plant that calls to me and I think I need it. They say my name. “Come to
me. They know they will be loved in my house. Yes, yes…I’m applying human attributes to my plants (again with this anthropomorphizing!

I have some amazing plants. I have the stand-bys. I have spider plants, dieffenbachia, pothos, arrowheads, and wandering jews. I have a Chinese evergreen, an ivy that actually grows in a dry climate, palm trees, aloes, fuzzy Swedish ivy, and one called Silver Squill.

December is coming. I think it’s time for the Arboretum’s fall sale. Maybe some new plants will be making my home or office their home.

I can hope, can’t I?