This morning, as I made my rounds to check who needs watering, I saw my little caetê-redondo now has four new leaves coming in from the thatch of dead sticks, little spears of vivid green piercing up from decay. His one original leaf remains, still half-brown, but now I sense a subtle vibrancy in that leaf, a quiet perseverance, where once I imagined only resignation.
Reader, I nearly cried from this simple joy.
2/2