For those of you in the northern climes of the Northern Hemisphere, this is the time of year your gardens start to grow. Mine is a year-round affair, except my garden consists of a few potted plants and some orchids.
But still, it’s something. My potted plants consist to two philodendron, and one of them — the one on the top level of the shelf in the photo below — was a present from my sister for my thirtieth birthday. Do the math; it’s over thirty-two years old and still going strong. It arrived when I was living in Boulder and has been with me ever since.
The one on the lower level was acquired about twelve years ago by Bob to decorate our office and filter the air. When he retired I brought it home and it has been doing fine ever since, even adopting a spider plant that now shares the dish.
The orchids are doing well, too, and the chili pepper vanda that I got last September for my birthday is in the process of putting out its third set of blooms.
I am a passive gardener. I like to let things grow at their own pace and make their way in the world.