Beyond the Green
We spend so much time obsessing over the lush, vibrant green of life. But what about the brown? In nature, when a leaf fades away into decay, it shifts from bright and eye-catching to a grounded, deep, almost unimpressive tone. As plant parents, we often feel guilty or sense a personal failure when we see what we nurture go through this upsetting change. We feel like we’ve let a living thing down.
But have you ever really looked at a dying leaf? There is a stunning architecture in those bronze curls and the way the light hits the thin, amber fibers. It isn’t ugly at all—it’s just changing. When a plant finally descends back into the earth, we feel the loss. We bonded with them, provided for them, and integrated them into our world.
Yet, the cosmos has more mystery than just death being the end. Our physical forms, and those of our leafy friends, ultimately return to the earth. This experience doesn't simply disappear from reality. While the unknown can be gut-wrenching, what remains certain is that our physical matter always returns to the earth in time. Our bodies' matter is recycled into the nourishment needed for whatever comes next.
In the grand cycle of things, a "dead" plant is actually becoming the soil to harvest our next bloom.
Thank you for reading this small poem, think piece? I'm not sure but if you are a fellow plant patent who maybe forgets to water their verdant sometimes, it's okay. Life happens and you're not alone. Join my group for other bad plant patents where we learn, mourn and grow. Plants I Haven't Killed Yet on Facebook