I recently wrote an article for the Creativity Coaching Association's February newsletter. You can read it here.
In the article, I described how I had beautiful plants growing, beets, spinach, cilantro and parsley while most of the country was covered with snow. The next day we had the coldest weather in years! We even had a dusting of snow! Hello, this is the desert, remember?
My plants died. They flopped over. The leaves got yucky and slimy. They're the technical terms for it, I'm sure. They were dead. Or so I thought. Then after the cold spell ended-it's 83 degrees here as I write-they came back. Even the deadest of the dead plants now have new growth. The spinach, in particular, is growing wonderfully. Not quite enough to harvest, but soon some leaves will be big enough to eat.
Like the little girl who sees the pile of horse manure and thinks, "There's got to be a pony nearby," I think there's a moral in here somewhere. I'm not quite sure what it is.
Pride goes before a fall (or a flop)?
Strong roots run deep?
That which doesn't kill us only makes us stronger?
What do you think?