You know that phrase, “If you love something, let it go, and if it comes back to you, it’s yours?”

Well I’m pretty sure that when it comes to plants, if they’re really meant to exist, you have to let them die and see if they come back to life.  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

When we moved into our current house three years ago, roommate MR brought a plant with him.  This plant was very resilient, enduring forgotten waterings and the constant threat of being hit by a nearby Wii remote.

But last spring it lost its fight, so I went to a local place that sells plants and procured what seemed like a suitable replacement.  The new plant died quickly.  To be perfectly honest, I think it died the moment I brought it into the house.

After several days of hoping and trying to coax the plant back to life, we gave up and simply set the remains — pot and all — outside on a table on our deck.  It was right next to the empty pot that once held our former plant.  A graveyard of sorts.

But last week MR alerted me to an amazing phenomenon taking place out there:

Life has emerged where once only death and disappointment dwelled.  I can’t be sure if this is the same plant coming back to life, or simply an opportunistic weed spread by the wind or a friendly squirrel.

All I know is the green looks better than what was there before.