The pot was broken, seemingly beyond repair. The accident had been waiting to happen for a while. The tile I had placed over the pot as a tabletop to hold other pots just barely fit. A small movement in any direction would have sent the tile and whatever was on it crashing down into the pot. I’m not sure how it happened – what tipped the scale. Maybe an errant roach or a bunch of roaches having a convention around the sole pot perched on the makeshift table top – the solitary pot with the dead pineapple sage – the plant I was planning to return to Home Depot to get my money back. Maybe it was the roaches. Yes, I blame the roaches although I saw no dead roaches. Bastards got away!
I had had the pot for over 10 years. I had great plans for the pot, plans I never carried out. First it was going to fulfill its true destiny as a pot its grand 2 foot height and 6 foot girth holding vertical vibrant colored flowers with greenery gracefully falling over its sides, their tendrils gently curling, rustling in the wind. Ahhh… But that never happened. Then I thought “fountain”! Yes, a backyard or front entrance fountain with gently burbling water greeting my guests or lulling me into a pleasant post meal stupor. That did not happen either though I did come close. I had plugged up the drain hole and sealed the pot readying it for water. Tested, it held water well. I even got a great new fountain pump from a friend’s yard sale. I was on my way. The thing is that I had sealed the pot about 7 years ago and the pump was purchased last year yet the pot remained a makeshift table.
But I had plans, plans that were now to go unrealized because of the roaches. Sigh. I should have seen it coming. I berated myself for putting the pot in such a position, for setting it up like that. I should have returned that dead plant last week , should have had a more balanced display on top of the tile, should not have had that stupid dead plant sitting there all by itself on off-kilter display like I was proud of it: “Look I killed a plant!”
The tile had been too small, each corner hardly touching the inside edge of the top of the pot: a disaster waiting to happen – a disaster that happened. The pot would never be whole again. I picked up the pieces of the pot and fit them into the gaping hole at the side. I could…Yes, I could! Super glue, concrete or clay maybe some grout, a little bit of paint….yes I could repair it. Yet my heart remained heavy.
A picture suddenly flashed into my mind. A picture I had seen in a magazine of a pot on its side, half buried in the earth with beautiful flowers spilling from it. My heart smiled again and I saw my newly broken pot as perfect. Now what to put in it? Hmmm. Deciding might take a few years.