Let me tell you about the plant I was sure I'd killed.
Last spring I bought a nasturtium on a whim. The leaves and the flowers are both edible, and I was intrigued, which is a dangerous thing to be at a garden center. Then I promptly forgot about her. For a week. Maybe longer. When I finally remembered, she looked like she'd been through something: pale, droopy, a desperate little life hanging on out of pure spite. I planted her anyway, mostly out of guilt. I did not have high hopes.
Well. LOOK AT HER NOW.
She has taken over the herb garden like a tenant who just discovered the lease has no size limit. That giant mound of leaves outside the greenhouse? One plant. The same one I nearly lost because I got distracted for a week.
And the herb garden wasn't enough for her. Oh no. She found the gap at the bottom of the greenhouse door and let herself right in. Then she went after a window I had shut. CLOSED.
And she's now trailing across the greenhouse floor in the sunshine, flowering past the folding chair and over the door mats like she was personally invited. (She was not. She's just very confident.)
The flowers are the best part: little orange-red blooms scattered through all that green like somebody dropped a handful of embers into the leaves. In October. With the trees outside turning gold, and the rest of the garden filing its retirement paperwork. She never got the memo.
I think she's grateful. Or she's an overachiever. Either way, I'll take it.
And yes, I've actually been eating her. Both the leaves and the blooms have gone into my salads, and I'll be honest: I was not expecting the flavor. It's peppery! A little zing hiding inside a pretty orange flower, like a salad that's been keeping a secret. I assumed "edible flower" meant "pretty and tastes like nothing." She had other plans. Turns out she's not just decorative, she has opinions.
Here's what she taught me: some things need far less attention than you think, and some things bloom hardest after you've given up on them. I'd love to say I had a plan. I did not. I forgot her, I planted her anyway, and she decided to take that as an act of faith.
Thank you, little desperate nasturtium. You're welcome in the greenhouse. You were going to move in anyway.
— Granny
📸 real photos (stills from video)
