Skip to content

I Have Been Growing

I have been growing avocados because I like the idea that one day there will be a tree. That there will be a tree because of me. First, the stones, they must be blanketed in damp kitchen roll and kept warm and safe, until a crack appears, and then, maybe a week or so later, there will be a root, emerging shyly from the base, seeking more. It is then that they are to be put in water, in glass vases from fifty years ago that were a steal to buy, a set of three, curved necks to hold it all in place, and they are filled with water and the avocado stone is placed in the plateau, and the root that emerged will dip into the water and follow some invisible path as it grows, and the stone will continue to crack open, and maybe another week, maybe two, there will be a shoot of green from the top of the stone, and the roots will wiggle and snake, and the shoot will grow taller, inch by stubborn inch, until it is time for the transplant to soil, where it can be called no longer a stone but a tree, half a foot tall, and then more.

Sitting in neat rows, south facing windowsill and the sun pouring in, trees that exist because of me and their stems are thickening and growing coarse and rigid and they have survived the coldest days of winter and now they welcome spring and turn their leaves to it. In three years, maybe five, they will bear fruit, that will be opened and scooped, and then there will be a new stone, and that stone too, can be planted, a tiny infinity of new trees, more oxygen, more air, more food, more life.
In a world stubborn soft and unsure of a way to exist that is not harmful, I buy the

cheapest, most dented avocados and I hollow them, and then I ask them to be more than they were ever sold to be. And as bad as these long and endless days can feel, with the insular and pressing feeling of inertia, roots and stems and leaves still grow, and one day, there will be fruit. One day, there will be fruit, and the cycle is endless, and nobody is being hurt, and I think maybe that that is okay, that that is the meaning of everything, that I can grow something, and that nobody will be hurt, and that I choose this. I choose this. I choose this.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *