Mint Outside My Window

This tasty weed started as a tiny mint plant bought in a grocery store. It sat in our front room next to the fireplace where it was noticeably restless. By restless, I mean it sent out long tendrils that snaked across the floor to the love seat, the corner of which is bathed in bright sunlight nearly all year.

Low light levels were not conducive to leaves because the tendrils produced little usable foliage. Wanting mint juleps and mojitos, I moved the mint to the west side of the front porch. There it proliferated, the tendrils died back, and short, straight arms emerged. Here, I blundered and forgot to water it for a week or so, and the Georgia sun sent it off to plant heaven—or so I thought.


There were a few tiny patches of pale green mixed in with the sun-burned remains, so hoping mint was as resilient and unkillable as I had heard, I started watering it and moved it to the deck just beyond the kitchen door. The deck gets direct sun for about five hours a day and dappled sunlight the rest of the time. It joined basil, parsley, canna, and daisies on the deck, so I never forgot to water it.

Now, the mint, having died back during winter, which had colder nights in February than in recent years, is healthy and on its way to full summer form. I don’t know about you, but I am done with winter. Spring is only a few days away, and I hope it will play nice. All the while, I’ll be counting down the days to juleps and mojitos, and they can’t come soon enough.

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