When Philip was 3 years old, he visited the Cactus Plantation in Edwards, Mississippi, where we used to live (long ago). They were very sweet to a little boy, and gave him two cacti. One of them died within weeks. The other one, well ....
It lived and moved with us from Mississippi to North Carolina to Iowa to Alabama to NC again to Massachusetts to NC again. It was a sturdy little thing. It survived 2 years hidden in the windowsill of Philip's room, without water!
But this winter, it died. Appropriately, it died when its owner became an adult. I don't know that Philip cared much, but I was bizarrely attached to this plucky little fellow who stayed with us, through thick and thin. He was left out on the porch and suffered a freeze, and well, that was the end. In the pic above, Philip and Julia are delivering him to the compost pile.
All things must come to an end.
1 comment:
There is a time for every purpose; a time for life and a time for death. Once something is born, it's only a matter of time before it dies; not a matter of if.
Kudos for you, throwing it in the compost pile; it's death has new purpose in eventual life.
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