In the house I grew up in, a built-in cabinet stood at the very end of the hallway that passed by my bedroom. On top of this cabinet, I kept several potted plants as well as, in the spring, a few starter boxes containing mostly tomato and zinnia seedlings. A window above the cabinet faced eastward. The first thing I would do every morning when I woke was go out into the hallway and, standing in a stream of early-morning sunshine, check out my plants to see how much they had grown overnight. I was enthralled with the magic of it all. Those plants are long gone, of course, but the magic they wrought, the lingering warmth of it, has continued undiminished well into my 76th year. [If you received notice of this posting, please send me a quick e-mail: tlf_ri@verizon.net. Thank you.]
I love imagining my father running excitedly to his plot of plants each morning. Life celebrating life.