Watering plants in the morning

There are few pleasures as joyfully meditative as watering plants in the early morning. The newspaper is read. The double shot of double espresso has done its job. Breakfast is still a distant dream. You find yourself lingering in your high- rise balcony, when your potted plants look towards you with a familiar childish demand.

With a newfound sense of purpose, you take up the watering can, ready to indulge the green ones. The first arc of water seeps into the soil. The heady scent of wet soil heightens your protective, caring side.

This feeling is real, palpable. The feeder and the fed, for a few moments, share a communion. Regardless of your partner - gender immaterial in such matters of practicalities - reminding you that plants don't need daily monsoons, just measured sips of hydration.


But the blissful pleasure of watering potted life has already challenged this logic. Just this 'once', you shall indulge the plants (read: yourself) - again. Inhaling the fresh scent of wet leaves and curated soil, you are momentarily lost, the urge to play with all five elements, and five senses, lingering, before the rest of the day claims you for itself.