“The witching hour, somebody had once whispered to her, was a special moment in the middle of the night when every child and every grown-up was in a deep deep sleep, and all the dark things came out from hiding and had the world all to themselves.”
– Roald Dahl, The BFG
When we purchased our land for The Little Barn just over one year ago, I noticed that among the sand, rose bushes, and caragana trees, were naturally growing cacti. Given that we live in the prairies and experience a harsh climate, I was not aware that our environment could even support a cactus plant if it was not indoors. I quickly dug them up, making three pots in total. Then the machinery went to work and levelled our lot.
I placed the cacti in small, sandy containers and in west-facing windows. However, they did not grow. In fact, the more attention that I paid to them, the more they were shrivelling up and appearing unhealthy. Then Geoffrey and I went away on vacation, and I wasn’t able to water my cactus plants for almost two weeks. I thought that they would surely have died. To my surprise, they no longer looked sickly, but had filled out and began to sprout new growth!
I was elated! I thought, ‘what funny little creatures. Just when I had almost given up hope, they turn around and come back to life in full force’. I think that my succulents teach me more life lessons than almost anything else in my life right now. They have taught me to slow down, be patient, and take a leap of faith when I’m feeling a need to.
Or, perhaps I am merely becoming a crazy ca(c)t(i) lady. Regardless, I feel as if there is a sprinkle of magic in my little plants. I only hope that they, among other things, come alive at night when everyone is asleep. Isn’t that a nice thought?