A Clean Prune

I examined a dried seedhead of wild fennel resting crookedly in a miniature terracotta planter on the veranda. Its brittle umbel had snapped midway along the stem, tangling into the new green growth of a creeping thyme runner below. Stepping onto the weathered cedar bench, I assessed the angle of tension. I braced my boots against the wood grain, placed both hands firmly around the dried fibrous stalk just above the fracture, and gave a sharp, measured twist. The dry stem gave way with a crisp snap. Setting the spent cluster neatly in a discarded clay saucer, I watched the thyme stems spring freely upright in the morning light.