Do you need a plant newsletter today? Oh heck yeah. Here it be.
Make like a plant and leaf the chaos behind.
We’ve now officially exited the liminal space: the small, quiet gap between 2020 and 2021, or what Helena Fitzgerald calls the lemon space. It’s loud now, in this new year. It’s loud and maybe you’re longing for something that feels less unmoored. Maybe you were already feeling drifty and strange, because holiday rituals didn’t happen like normal, and now… well, you know. Now is happening.
I saw this little tweet a few weeks ago and saved it, because reading it felt like tugging on the end of a very long string, from this epoch to an ancient one.
If you feel like things are wonky and strange and you just want to go home (and where is that anyway?) you’re not alone. Even the trees understand. (I also feel this sense of dislocation when I’ve spent too much time on fast-moving social media. It’s like my mind is being transplanted too quickly, from one context to the next.)
I messaged Julie to ask about this quote, and she said it was her translation of this. Thank you, Julie!
What the plants are reading
On disappointments, and instead of letting go, “re-housing them”:
With this and other 2020 disappointments, I think about re-housing them, instead. I imagine a cozy little cabin for them with a stocked fridge where all of the things I wanted to happen, but didn't happen, can go and hang out with each other and take a little break. I wish them all well there. I left them a lot of wood.
A call for more restfulness (which, you know what, includes watering your plants and watching the H2O sink slowly into the soil.) It’s never a bad idea to stare at a live oak. A deep dive into how plants move and remember, with a special focus on the sensitive plant, which is one of my faves. If you feel like you, ahem, need a drink, maybe this herbal concoction made by monks will do the trick? A cat who brings flowers is a good cat indeed.
What else.
Beautiful embroidery of aerial shots of the British countryside (lots more in that artist’s feed):
Mood:
A very small Rose Parade, sure why not.
A reminder that we and the plants are all just trying to get by, here, folks.
A whole lot of stuff about duckweed which is both rad and terrifyingly growthy:
It quickly doubles its biomass every 2 days and removes impurities from water such as lead and excess nitrates/phosphates. For this reason it is often used in bioremediation to clean water.
Feels appropriate:
This pom-pom planter, for if I ever have the energy to craft again. Has this amazing truth in the caption, which applies to literally every craft I try:
“That kind of craft you fantasize about but when you're in the thick of it you're like "what am I doing with my life?"
This game exists?!?!
Players build and maintain food webs in diverse environments. Healthy ecologies reward you with bonus powers and perks. Watch out though, as others may decide it’s easier to disturb and degrade your ecosystem than nurture their own.
Yes there will be singing… but, bad news, it’ll be about the dark times. Whee!
And finally, an aspiration:
May all your roads lead to whatever feeling of home that you need right now,
Lindsay
Administrative P.S.
This newsletter sends on Ẅednesdays because Ẅednesday is a great day to celebrate Vegetation 🌱 It will arrive on a different day of the week if I forget to send it on the right day. We were off last week but back to the Vegetation Ẅednesday grind.
Feel free to reply to this, and I will get it like a regular email! Send me links or personal blooms for my entertainment. I love them all.
You’re my favorite.