A Matter of Hydration

Sunday mornings inside are entirely too sluggish, so I ventured out to the balcony to inspect the greenery. The potted mint was drooping sideways, clearly parched because someone assumes rain happens by wishful thinking. Nearby sat a plastic mister with a droplet still clinging to its nozzle. I planted my sneakers on the terracotta rim, gripped the lever with both hands, and put my whole weight into pulling it down. A crisp spritz caught the limpest stem right in the leaves. They immediately perked up. Plants, like people, just need a stern wake-up call.