A Closer Look

Recently, I've begun to propagate some of our houseplants. 🌱

This involves cutting the plant along the stem and putting it in water. Over the course of a few weeks, roots begin to grow, and the plant can be repotted. It's a pretty simple and relatively slow process, but I find it all sooo exciting. ✨

I carefully placed the little plant in a jug of water and positioned it by the windowsill. Despite knowing that the whole process takes weeks, I can't resist taking a little peep at it daily to see the progression.

As I sleep, I know nature is hard at work performing tiny miracles. Each morning, bathed in the light of a new sunrise, I stand by the sill and inspect it thoroughly, looking closely along the stems for any signs of new growth, happily observing and patiently waiting for the magic to happen. 😊

On seeing the tiny delicate roots as they first began to appear, I felt so excited! I was in awe of such a simple, commonplace occurrence. It doesn't seem like much, but watching these roots mysteriously spring to life, growing bigger and stronger, morning by morning, filled me with wonder.

I thought about the beauty of the little things that we miss or take for granted. All the small miracles happening right before our eyes have become so commonplace that we cease to recognise them. Taking the time to look and to appreciate the simple things can bring so much joy, like fragile roots in a jug of water.✨

In The Sense of Wonder, Rachel Carson explores this concept further.

For most of us, knowledge of our world comes largely through sight, yet we look about with such unseeing eyes that we are partially blind.

The ordinary things, that can bring such delight, are often missed or just glossed over. She describes a clear, moonless summer night as she laid in the grass, looking up at the night sky. She contemplated the beauty of the meteors flashing by and the constellations; the millions of stars blazing in the darkness.

It occurred to me, that if this were a sight that could only be seen once in a century, or even once in a human generation, this little headland would be thronged with spectators. But it can be seen many scores of nights, in any year... And because they could see it almost any night, perhaps they will never see it.

She spoke about the world of little things; sand, snowflakes, and mosses which are so inconspicuous yet so lovely.

Some of nature's most exquisite handiwork is on a miniature scale, as anyone knows who has applied a magnifying glass to a snowflake... a good hand lens or magnifying glass will bring a new world into being.

A lensed view of a patch of moss reveals a dense tropical jungle in which insects, large as tigers, prowl amid strangely formed, luxurious trees.

Moss

It's the simplest and most primitive land plant. The structure of moss is so basic that it doesn't even have roots.

It is often overlooked, seen as the vague background of the landscape, some texture to a crack in the sidewalk, or a patch of green near the gutter. These fluffy green carpets are stepped on and generally ignored.

In Gathering Moss, Robin Wall Kimmerer celebrates this simple plant and describes its beauty and complexity as she explores it at the microscopic level.

Observing the light shining brightly through the cells reveals an enchanted new world. She likens the experience to wandering through an art gallery full of interesting forms and colours.

An already gorgeous world becomes even more beautiful the closer you look. ✨

Image credit: Kelvinsong via wikimedia