Thursday, November 22, 2012

The Back Porch (#10)

   The sun was out, and there was much to be thankful for. The bushes were thankful for those golden rays which inspired them to grow and create food for themselves, their leaves still green and young. The firey banners of the trees waved above the heads of the bushes, thankful for the cool breeze which sent them dancing. The sky was a brilliant, rich blue, thankful that it was unblanketed and clear.
  The porch relaxed in the shade, thankful for such a beautiful day. No rain to pound and torment it. No frost or snow to coat its rusty railings. The weather was really quite perfect, and the porch fully intended to enjoy every minute of it by napping the day away in blissful contentment.
   On the porch there was a little rosemary bush sitting in a little black plastic pot which nested in a bright yellow ceramic bowl. The rosemary bush was incredibly grateful. It had lately housed two sad little succulents in its dirt, as they had no other place to grow. The succulents were not big drinkers, and the rosemary bush had been feeling the drought for quite some time. Just now, however, the Water Giver had decided to remove the smallest (and most likely to survive) of the succulents into its own little spot of dirt, and had thoroughly watered the rosemary bush and set it outside. Its roots were in ecstasy. It's thin, sharp-bladed leaves' senses were dull from thirst, but soon would perk up and realize that the sun was out and would do some drinking in of their own.
   The only unthankful one in the whole place was the other succulent. It slouched grumpily against the side of the rosemary's black pot, thoroughly unhappy at the sun, the breeze, the water that had just been poured over its roots, and at life in general. It tended to be silent in its peevishness, however, and so the rosemary bush payed it no mind. Bushes always tend to be optimistic, and this one was no exception. It was going to enjoy this day completely, without distraction.

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