Mold in my Marigold

In celebration of the new year, I planted seeds.  I got little pots, nutrient rich soil, seed packets, and put them all together in the order correct for life.  From my happy place, a drawer full of stationary, I selected two small art nouveau sticker labels, wrote “Marigold” on one, “Lavender” on the other, and attached them to the little pots, in the order correct for identification.  The effect was delightful.  I was delighted.  I placed the two little pots of Hope and Potential on my desk, next to my email, where I could draw strength.  Water for life, light for growth.  I had a sudden thought, a potential issue – oh no! – winter is a poor choice of season to plant vulnerable seeds.  Don’t they need warmth too?  I had a sudden inspiration, a gleeful solution – ah ha! – if I cover the little pots I can create the greenhouse effect right there on my desk, next to my email, so the waiting seeds can have a Chance after all.  With a skip in my step and a cackle on my lips, I pulled out some Christmas cellophane, clear thick plastic with jolly blue snowflakes.  I cut two squares, dug through the junk draw for two rubber bands, and neatly covered the little pots.  One day waiting, one day checking.  Eager Marigold with vivid green sprouts.  How quick they appeared one day, just the other day, with tiny leaves, two for each stem, 20 stems, 40 stems, 60 stems total.  I saw them, under the blue snowflake-ed cellophane, pressing up with faces towards the sun.  The effect was delightful.  I was delighted.  I debated with myself then, if I should remove the cellophane and expose the little sage shoots to the wintery room, or if I should allow those slender-lings another day undercover.  I opted for leaving them as was.  Another day for watching.  Today I looked in upon the Marigold shoots, and ripped off the cellophane cover in horror.  Less vibrant, less green.  Weak, sagging brown.  And Mold.  Mold in my Marigold.  How did this happen?  How did Death and Petulance creep its way into my Hope and Potential?  Cellophane – my gift of greenhouse warmth turned incubator for life sucking Mold.  I had done everything right, and I had failed.  I had a sudden thought, a potential lifeline – oh yes! – I still had the Lavender.  Slow sleepy Lavender.  Today I looked in upon the Lavender pot, and ripped off the cellophane cover in haste.  Count them, one, two, tiny baby heads just breaking the surface.  There I beheld another Chance.

 

Marigold and Lavender

 

To be continued…