Friendly Ferns

Stooping, Mara glanced under the deck to reassure herself that the minute fern was still alive only to discover it had doubled in size. Today, finally, she had time to carefully transplant it to a different location. If asked, Mara wasn’t sure she could explain the importance of these tiny plants that she had moved and tended, one each year, to develop her fern garden. Best to transplant when they were young; within a few years, they grew to half her height.

“Brandon, what are you doing?” Mara shuffled cautiously across the brick slippery with moss. Perhaps her brother would consider this an endeavor reminiscent of hobbits and agree to join her.

Mumbling came from the general direction of the computer room, a dead giveaway as to his whereabouts. Mara couldn’t see the sense in perusing the idea any further; she’d never get him to surface if he was engrossed in a computer game. Wanting to get the project completed before it got too dark, Mara stuffed her phone in her pocket, swigged down half a glass of water, and headed back to the shed.

She had just finished rummaging around for digging tools and a bit of compost when her phone rang. Balancing the tools in the container that held the compost, she answered the call. “Sorry, Casey, not at this moment. I’m working with the fern garden, but I have an idea. Come visit until I finish this, then I’ll help you practice.” Casey was forever looking for someone to kick her a few balls so she could practice her dribbling and goal kicks for the girls’ soccer team.

They both laughed at Mara’s soccer abilities, but Casey agreed it was better than nothing.

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” Casey ended the call, and Mara sighed with relief. She hadn’t mentioned this particular task to her friend, but Casey always sympathized even if she didn’t fully understand.