Last fall, in preparation for winter, I plowed under the remnants of my garden - except for one plant. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to turn under the little guy. With big, dark-green leaves, “Plant” stood about ten inches tall. And there he stayed. All winter. Through frost and snow. In the spring, I tilled and fertilized - carefully going around “Plant,” who was already happily growing – and growing. Currently, he stands about six feet tall and has gorgeous deep burgundy blossoms, far outpacing tomatoes, squash, beans, all those ordinary garden things. He also has a new name, “Bob,” in honor of a dear friend who banished all flowers from the garden.
After several photographs and “plant app” explorations, the consensus is that Bob is red okra. Friends who guessed “hollyhock” and “hibiscus” weren’t far off, as all are in the same plant family (along with cotton). Okra is the only edible plant in this family. I still have no idea how Bob arrived - I’m pretty sure it was via a bird, or maybe just via magic. Bob is still at the flowering stage, so I’ll report in a later posting if red okra actually appears. (It’s supposed to be delicious and turns green when cooked.)
Bob’s appearance reminds me that it’s in our best creative interest not to dismiss (i.e., plow under) an original idea that insists on remaining present in the back of our mind. Especially when you get that “this might turn into something interesting” feeling. Given the freedom to be, that idea can take root and grow into something completely unexpected. Ideas can take shape in ways you never dreamed of and bear fruit that you couldn’t have imagined at the outset. So yes, honor and nourish things that someday will surface and find their place in your writing and art. Almost always in a most unexpected way :-)
Photo credit: Dee Stribling Creative
Supporting information:
Red Burgundy Okra from Victory Seeds
**Note: PlantNet is one of many apps that can help identify plants via a photo from your smartphone.