In the stairwell of our apartment building there is a plant. It sits on a windowsill in front of an old stained-glass window.
The plant was there when we first looked at the apartment, and I remember thinking it made the building feel more friendly. Then it appeared to die, and the pot was left on the windowsill, empty and abandoned. I assumed that whoever had left it there had moved on.
But spring revealed that the plant was not abandoned, just dormant. Green shoots emerged through the earth, and turned into thick, leafy stems, that now support an increasing number of flowers. Their perfume fills the stairwell, and it’s the first thing I notice whenever I open the door.
I don’t know who is responsible for this plant. Our apartment building, like many others, is fairly anonymous. We say hello as we pass on the stairs, but the relationships don’t extend beyond simple greetings. I’m happy with this arrangement. Nonetheless, I appreciate whoever is quietly tending this plant and making our stairwell more cheerful.
Thank you, anonymous neighbour, for sharing your delightful flowers with us.