A few summers ago Sally planted a trumpet vine in our planters by our front door. This year, we barely noticed the cluster of leaves rising up... until the white trumpet flowers began to blossom in early fall. How could this be? We had neither planted nor nourished... yet there were two plants, one on either side of the door, beneath the planters which once held their former generation.
Rising once again... the seeds carried on from a plant we had already forgotten.
Then we remembered.
I followed the stem back to the ground, as I knew the planters were set on concrete and tar... and there, in a place that one would hardly consider a place that lends itself to life in this way, a tiny crack between pavement and concrete. Enough to provide the tiniest opportunity to the most... extraordinary plant.
Life astonishes me every day in its wonder, and in its magic
As Khalil Gibran once wrote so eloquently,
the epitome of "Life longing for itself."