Shallots and Cosmos

As soon as the sign of spring arrived, I bought a punnet of shallot seedlings and planted them in my garden.  Those seedlings were very thin, like needles, and feeble.  I made holes for them first, then placed each seedling in the hole, and then, put the soil back in with great care.  Finally, I watered the seedlings with water, again, with great care.  If I didn’t water them carefully, the seedlings looked as if they would drown and break into pieces.

In between those thin and feeble looking shallot seedlings, there were many seeds that fell from the white cosmos during previous season.  White cosmos seedlings had been growing since I planted shallots on the soil.  White cosmos seedlings developed feathery, thin layered leaves around its stem, and now they had several white buds on them.

One fine and breezy morning, I looked at my garden, again.  There were shallots, appearing like a collection of green swords trying to reach to the sky, and white cosmos wearing a robe of green feathers.  Green swords and green feathers… I was lost in admiration of the beauty of the contrast of them in the corner of my garden.

Shallots just needs to grow straight towards the sky, as shallots should.  Cosmos just needs to grow its feathery leaves, flirting among spring breeze, grow its stems, then make the white buds open in the sunshine, as cosmos should.

by Eurus Piper