Parsley Forest

Please observe the ridiculousness of my parsley.

6 months ago:



Today:



I came back from Spring break two days ago and it had literally grown a foot in a week. A FOOT.

Yes, you can also see all the weeds that have grown. However, like I said in an earlier post, I can't bring myself to pull them just yet: I gave them a home, and it seems cruel to tear them from it. My chives, rosemary, and sage are still thriving, along with a little plant whose seed I extracted from a colorful little fruit and planted in order to see what grew from it. It's about two inches tall now with bright, deep green leaves, the baby of the bunch.

I stepped outside to take these photos and, to my delight, found these little friends hiding in my garden from the lawn mowers blaring just outside of it.



I was so happy they had found shelter in the little wilderness I helped to create.



The parsley has grown up and westward, reaching with its stems (more like branches now) towards the sun. It's starting to flower, which means I have to actually get on harvesting it, or it'll turn bitter soon.



Anyone want some parsley?

I keep thinking of a certain picture book I loved as a child. All I remember of it is that a boy planted a seed in his front yard, and from it grew an entire wilderness that he and his friends proceeded to have many an adventure in. I'm almost sure it's this book:



But I can't be sure. I feel like he planted squash, or something like that. Anyone remember a book like this?

The point is, seeing these birdies hanging out in my patio just made me melt, as if I had created my own little green world, and ushered in life to this once grey patch of dirt. Stay birdies, stay snails, stay spiders, stay butterflies; enjoy this oasis protected from lawn mowers and trimmers and the scary gardener men from the Outside that wield them. Stay as long as you wish. Here you are neighbors, co-residents, not pests. Here you can spin and flutter and play in peace. And feel free to eat my parsley seeds.

xoxo
Maralah