uprooted

i expected to miss my view. i expected to miss the sound of the waves crashing and the fog and the big, wide streets and the ice cream parlor at the corner. stupidly i did not expect, having brought so many of my plants with me, cramming pots and saucers and jars of green into every possible corner, to miss my garden quite this much. but last night i was nearly undone by the idea that this approaching spring there would be nowhere to plant my salvaged squash seeds or my apocalypse tomatoes. i thought the plants i had would do. they don't. so this morning, on the advice of a friend, i searched for a local community garden. i found one just a few minutes from work. now i just have to hope they have an open plot.

if not, i may have to send my favorite plant, the giant golden bamboo that takes up my entire tiny porch packing to live somewhere else, so i can replace it with food-growing pots. either that or stake out an under used public space and start guerilla gardening.