The succulent looked like a dinosaur. I'm not one to see a plant and think I have to have that, but I picked it up because it reminded me of a stegosaurus and made me smile, and because I was feeling really hopeful. It was summer, and Rob was home, and I was feeling less like a student and more like an adult (and enjoying the transition).
After about six months and too much watering and not enough natural sunlight, the soggy little succulent died. I took it from my office and stuck it in that magical windowsill, vowing never to water it again. The plant continued to die, but not before sprouting a hard, purple-ish little bud in between two grey leaves. I picked it off, abandoned the old plant, and placed the baby one onto new soil.
Lots of things have changed this year. I don't know if the new plant will thrive or struggle or walk the line between the two, but it's beginning to put down roots, and it's good.
