The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.
I bought this little plant a very long time ago.
At the time, it was sold as a Rose of Jericho, which is how many people still know it. It looked dry and brown and curled in on itself, but I remember being told it would come back to life if you added water.
This fact fascinated me. Too curious, I bought it.
I watered it. It unfolded and turned green. Then I let it dry and put it in a cupboard. It looked like a dried up weed so I had to put it away.
More than a decade later, I took it out. “That’s dead. You should throw it out,” my husband said. “How long have you had that thing anyway?”
“Well, let’s see….I last watered it about, oh, 13 years ago.” I said.
It spent all those years dry, tucked away, completely forgotten. And this week, for only the third time since I bought it, I decided to give it water again.
Within an hour, it started to open. Fast enough that my eye caught the movement as I walked past. The outer leaves seemed to fling themselves outward, one by one, slowly, every so often. Ping!……..Ping! Like a gentle wind had blown open a door.
