I live in a place where green things might sprout in mid-December. Today's photo comes from a pot on my balcony with something or other coming up.
Besides the wonder of green sprouts in December, I also wonder what it is. Is it something I planted that is only now sprouting? (I don't remember what I might have planted here.) Or is it something that some passing bird "planted" in my pot? Will it live long enough to reveal itself or will a capricious Texas frost but an end to it before I find out for sure?
People who know me, who call me "Eeyore," and know I have trouble with "positive thinking," may not always recognize that I live in wonder as much as in disappointment. The blue jay causing trouble with the squirrels in the trees of my apartment complex, the way the water in the swimming pool beneath my window reflects shimmering light onto my ceiling, the moss on the rocks by the bayou that look like miniature evergreens, unexpected sprigs of green in a pot of dirt . . . my life is not short on wonder, on awe, on praise for these signs of life and surprise and laughter. (The jays are ridiculous!)
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