don't worry, I don't have a green thumb either

I realize that I've been staring at this empty pot for as long as I can remember. Every now and then I find a plant and throw it in here, hoping it will fit. But everything is awful. Only because they don't settle in or they can't grow or something just isn't right. It never occurred to me that I could wait to get the right container once I got the plant.

I was lured in by it, though. The romance of it- made so sturdy by someone else. I was thinking they must know better than me. This is a time tested and true method for holding the plant that I don't know I want yet.

So I picked this pot and stuck with it. When it crushed tender leaves. When it enveloped and consequently blocked the sun from infant reeds. When the deep roots required more water than was available. When I got no pleasure from the plant that found it's way in and I watched it wither.

I really should have thought more about the plant I wanted. I'm trying it now. And my solution in the interim is to put this pot on the street. The truth is, I bought it cheap. I thought it looked like what I was supposed to have. I feel silly for holding onto it for so long.

I'm standing at the hardware store, now determined to make my own container for this mystery plant. And instead of looking at materials, I've got my eyes closed. Imagining broad, protective leaves. And succulent, verdant sprouts. And hard bark sheltering rubbery softness. And sticky, sweet sap. This plant is much larger than my borrowed pot could ever hold.