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There were nine in the beginning. Well, ten if you want to get technical, since one of them was actually two in one. So really, I'm a fibber. There still are nine. But there's one less today than there were yesterday. I could try to blame my son. After all, he pulled one out. Truth is, that one was dead before he set a finger on it. It hadn't given up the ghost, not entirely, but I had doubts it would ever see better days. There is a point of no return after all, and I, I am no miracle worker. Well, okay, not in this realm I'm not.
Trees. Tiny trees. Maples, actually, if you must know. It's the time of year, where all the little "helicopters" have sprouted. All over my lawn, and among my garden. Dozens, upon dozens of the little buggers. The ones in the lawn itself, they become sacrifices to the mower of doom. (No theme music for it yet. Still working on that.) The ones in the garden, those, by virtue of the fact that they are generally speaking unwanted, are transformed magically from thriving plants, destined to tower over all they survey. My house included. Well, except for the oak. Because that thing is just beyond huge. And the two maples, I think they are a bit jealous, because you know, when you're a tree, size matters. Okay? They become transformed into weeds. That which must be removed!
Thing is though, they aren't all weeds. Not to me anyways. Or rather, I see in them something a bit more than just the nuisance of having to be removed, and tossed away. (Really, we should be composting them, but we don't yet have a composter.) I see in them potential. And so I try, I try to reach out, and see if I can do something with that potential. I can't help them all. There's just too many of them. So I go through, and I hunt among them looking for specimens that speak something to me. I can't explain what makes me stop and choose one, over the other. Some it seems obvious to me, they have a natural slant. A twist or a bend, due to how they came out of the ground, and how they had to bend around or over to reach the light. Those are few, and I grab them up. The rest, all seem nearly the same. Tiny straight trunks, branched out with perfect little maple leaves. Some have been growing longer, and so are much taller. I grab a few of the tall ones. Some are still quite new and barely have two or three leaves. So I grab a few of them. One particular pair are so close together, you'd almost think they are a single tree. So I take them together, hoping that somehow that might work.
I take them up, and I put them into tiny plastic containers, with fresh potting soil. Some of the left over soil I have from the tomato plants. I have no clue if that's a good idea. Frankly, I'm making this up as I go. I have rooting powder, that I'd tried out in a similar attempt a few years back. So I dip a few of the roots into the powder, before packing them into the soil, and watering them well. Did I water too much? Not enough? Now they they sit, in their pots. Up on a small table, where apparently my son has found them fascinating. He uprooted one of them. A shame, because it's one that had a natural lean to it, a bend that might have made a marvelous windswept look. But as I said, that one was a goner. The leaves had dried up, and the stem felt hard like the sap had gone out of it. I can't decide whether to let it go, or to see if there aren't others I could put in its place that have escaped attention thus far.
Yes, this must seem strange. I know, you've perhaps heard me vent about lawncare and gardening. To me though, what I'm doing here is neither. I've had a long fascination with Bonsai. I had one juniper, many, many years ago, and it did well enough, but it died when I went away for a bit too long, and wasn't around to water and tend it. I've wanted to get back into it again, and this, this is a way to do it. A very hard way. The things I'm probably doing wrong are so many, I can't fathom them. The zanity of the idea is clearly in the realm of scheme, and a good way along towards pipe dream. But, I can't quite give it up either. As sure as most of these will probably just die off, I have to figure, it's a chance. You know? I mean, if I weren't trying this, they'd just get pulled and tossed out. So, sure, its almost a guaranteed waste of time and effort on my part. I haven't got the experience to keep a plastic centerpiece alive. But I don't see much to lose by trying. And maybe, just maybe, by this time next year, when spring turns into summer, and there are saplings a plenty bursting out from the mulch around my house, one of these select few might still be alive, to give hope to the new crop of recruits that I'm not a complete black thumb.
Thing is though, they aren't all weeds. Not to me anyways. Or rather, I see in them something a bit more than just the nuisance of having to be removed, and tossed away. (Really, we should be composting them, but we don't yet have a composter.) I see in them potential. And so I try, I try to reach out, and see if I can do something with that potential. I can't help them all. There's just too many of them. So I go through, and I hunt among them looking for specimens that speak something to me. I can't explain what makes me stop and choose one, over the other. Some it seems obvious to me, they have a natural slant. A twist or a bend, due to how they came out of the ground, and how they had to bend around or over to reach the light. Those are few, and I grab them up. The rest, all seem nearly the same. Tiny straight trunks, branched out with perfect little maple leaves. Some have been growing longer, and so are much taller. I grab a few of the tall ones. Some are still quite new and barely have two or three leaves. So I grab a few of them. One particular pair are so close together, you'd almost think they are a single tree. So I take them together, hoping that somehow that might work.
I take them up, and I put them into tiny plastic containers, with fresh potting soil. Some of the left over soil I have from the tomato plants. I have no clue if that's a good idea. Frankly, I'm making this up as I go. I have rooting powder, that I'd tried out in a similar attempt a few years back. So I dip a few of the roots into the powder, before packing them into the soil, and watering them well. Did I water too much? Not enough? Now they they sit, in their pots. Up on a small table, where apparently my son has found them fascinating. He uprooted one of them. A shame, because it's one that had a natural lean to it, a bend that might have made a marvelous windswept look. But as I said, that one was a goner. The leaves had dried up, and the stem felt hard like the sap had gone out of it. I can't decide whether to let it go, or to see if there aren't others I could put in its place that have escaped attention thus far.
Yes, this must seem strange. I know, you've perhaps heard me vent about lawncare and gardening. To me though, what I'm doing here is neither. I've had a long fascination with Bonsai. I had one juniper, many, many years ago, and it did well enough, but it died when I went away for a bit too long, and wasn't around to water and tend it. I've wanted to get back into it again, and this, this is a way to do it. A very hard way. The things I'm probably doing wrong are so many, I can't fathom them. The zanity of the idea is clearly in the realm of scheme, and a good way along towards pipe dream. But, I can't quite give it up either. As sure as most of these will probably just die off, I have to figure, it's a chance. You know? I mean, if I weren't trying this, they'd just get pulled and tossed out. So, sure, its almost a guaranteed waste of time and effort on my part. I haven't got the experience to keep a plastic centerpiece alive. But I don't see much to lose by trying. And maybe, just maybe, by this time next year, when spring turns into summer, and there are saplings a plenty bursting out from the mulch around my house, one of these select few might still be alive, to give hope to the new crop of recruits that I'm not a complete black thumb.
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(Wondering if you get the joke.)
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