Listening to the Bunch

Every year around this time, I bring a lot of plants indoors. They’ve been in the back yard since the end of April, basking in the dappled glory of lazy summer afternoons. But now as the temperatures drop, the rubber plants, the philodendrons, the palms, and all their cousins aren’t equipped to handle icy winds. So, I lug these old friends into my sun porch.




They’ve made the trip before. But I swear I can hear them grumbling. ‘Yo, dude, we don’t like it in here. No sun, dry air, what do you think we are, desert plants? Come on…’ I could go on, but you get the idea. I feel sorry for them, but the alternative is death. So I put up with the abuse and keep wedging them into the available space.



Now they’re adjusting, figuring out how they can make the best of the new digs. I know how they feel. Summer is hard to loose and winter’s extremes aren’t easy on anything. But I’m glad we have the space and I’m grateful my family is willing to put up with the winter population. Hey, they clean the air and add moisture to the environment. Now, if I can shut them up, maybe we can have some peace.