Read by Matilda Longbottom

If I were a seed, snug in a sponge, suspended above a reservoir of water, I might just panic at the mere thought. But then again, who knows what kind of plant I’d become? Perhaps a flower with a zigzag stem from shaking fear, or a vegetable yielding wonky green beans. You see, I’ve developed a peculiar fear of water, stemming from a surfing mishap years ago when wooden surfboards ruled the waves. Back then, I was a slender girl navigating the Hawaiian surf, aided by beefy surfers who carried my board with the utmost care. They were my “brothers,” embodying the spirit of aloha—a love so kind and generous.

One fateful day, a careless collision fractured my tailbone, sending my board flying. As I floated, legs numb, a heavy piece of koa wood plummeted towards me. Miraculously, it landed beside me, allowing me to paddle back to shore. It was a moment of divine intervention or perhaps the work of a guardian angel. From that day on, I couldn’t shake my hydrophobia.

Now confined to my office due to multiple accidents, I’ve turned to hydroponic gardening. Unable to tend traditional gardens, I’ve found solace in this innovative method. Seeds sprout within days in their nutrient-rich pods, shielded from the harsh Louisiana elements and pesky pests. No longer do I fear the wrath of Godzilla-sized grasshoppers decimating my crops. Hydroponics offers ease and cleanliness—no more bending, lifting, or digging in the dirt.

Indoors, I’ve found a renewed sense of purpose. My once-disheartened mornings are now filled with the joy of watching my hydroponic garden flourish. Thanks to a dear friend’s gift, I’ve become a hydroponic enthusiast, with seven thriving units producing an abundance of herbs and greens. From parsley to Swiss chard, my indoor oasis is a testament to the possibilities of growth, even in the face of adversity.

With each seedling that emerges, I’m reminded of the resilience of life. Gardening has always been my sanctuary, and now, hydroponics has become my lifeline. Though my outdoor gardening days are behind me, I find comfort in this new chapter of growth, guided by the wisdom of GreenPrints and the support of my loved ones.

So, here’s to the hydrophobic gardener, finding hope and growth in water. May my journey inspire others, reminding them that even in the most unlikely places, beauty can bloom. ❖

About the Author: Mo Pascoe-Hoyal is a published writer, songwriter, and avid gardener residing in Central Louisiana. Despite facing various challenges, including disabilities from multiple accidents, Mo remains an ardent advocate for growth and resilience. Inspired by the spirit of aloha and the beauty of nature, she continues to find solace and joy in the art of gardening.