🌱 The First Herb Pot

When I first began gardening, I wanted results fast.
I imagined lush basil spilling over pots, rosemary sprigs ready for lamb roasts, mint for tea at sunrise.

Mint — Photo by Eleanor Chen on Unsplash

But the garden had other plans.

My first basil plant withered within weeks. I’d watered it too much, then not enough. I blamed the soil, the weather — even myself.

What I didn’t see then was the lesson waiting in the quiet: nature does not bend to impatience.

So I started again, smaller. One pot. Mint.

I placed a little watering can by the kitchen door so I wouldn’t forget. Each morning, after coffee, I touched the soil, poured gently, and paused just long enough to notice if a new leaf had unfurled.

Weeks later, when my family and I tore fresh mint into a salad, it was more than taste. It was a reminder: growth is not rushed, it is stewarded.

That one pot became three. Three became a corner bed. And the habit of tiny daily act of nurture became a ritual.

Now, after 15 years, my garden is more than food. It’s a mirror.

It shows me my impatience, my neglect, my resilience.

It reminds me that death feeds life (compost is not waste, it’s future soil).

It teaches my children patience the way no lecture could.

Wisdom: Start with one hardy herb. Learn its rhythm before you demand a harvest. Your garden will grow with you.