The smell of flowers before they’re picked up 

By Marah Aburahma

I should make myself a good cup of jasmine tea and maybe grab a piece of fresh cake”

“That would help me ruminate” 

“Might be better if I start working on the article then I can give  myself a break for a muffin”

“Okay, so I need to start off with the ideas,
“Maybe a blueberry muffin with salted honey crumble”

“That’s a good one. Yes.”


“Where do I begin, maybe I should just change the topic”
“And no I’ll just perforate my very own experience with plants and flowers.”

“Do you guys ever wonder if a flower smells different after it’s picked up?”

I used to wonder so often until I decided to craft a home-garden. My story began with an indoor plant “echeveria lilacina”. This sun-loving succulent hates winter and cold temperatures, therefore I had to bring it in at nighttime, though it is mostly vigorous, meaning it thrives on periods of neglect and low water. But bad news is, it takes too long to grow. 

I wished to observe my plant growing wild, budding, looking and feeling different, therefore, I assumed I should get my hands more dirty, I started getting other plants, watered daily, Pulled the weeds before they got big. Got rid of dead, dying, and diseased vegetation. Until I was able to see those colorful blooms and beautiful visuals, they have become a potent part of my life that I started to think of what it was like to care passionately about something. Those plants, by purely doing what they’re drawn to do, something outstanding, and brilliant happens, they showed me how to thrive for a living. Neither the flower nor the insect could ever realize the consequence of their lovemaking.  

I became myself, a nemophilist; a hunter of the woods, I loved forests, their beauty, their solitude, the petrichor smell during winters. I started being violent to myself, exercising my own willpower. I cared passionately about plants that I couldn’t step on the grass with my shoes on, 

“Now that I have misfiring synapses from all those ideas.”

And to be honest, the greatest life lessons I gained were from those plants, from the trees, the flowers, from nature. The beautiful way those brown leaves fall every season to make room for another. Or the branches that are trimmed and cut off to grow better and more dazzling. It’s beautiful and it whittles the world down.