Monday

The little origami folders had been kept cool and dry since I brought them home, carefully labelled: Cyrtomium falcatum, Dryopteris erythrosora. I had seen some success since then too, with a layer of green fuzz forming beneath the clingfilm on the practice pot we’d done in class. I knew not to expect much more by this point – raising ferns from spores is a pleasure to be enjoyed patiently.

The smell of boiling soil was an unpleasant start to the process, as I sterilised the compost that would become home to the fern dust for months to come. Almost putrid like you’re doing something unnatural, but clean and clingfilm covered, the pots were almost ready, left cooling in the sink.

Later, with everything in its place, I opened the first envelope, slipping the folded corners out slowly. The inch of fern with its clustering sori, like the bottom of a squid’s tentacle, sat squarely green and yellow on the paper. Despite the time of year, it had done its job, and brown dust gathered in the creases of the envelope.

Tapped gently to the centre as I tried to control the folds, and with the last-minute clingfilm removal, the flip occurred. What’s visible was far from evenly distributed, but gently tapped the paper covering remained in place to allow for the invisible to settle in too, and I am quietly optimistic.

Re-clingfilmed, the pot now sits shaded on a windowsill, slowly playing host to this ancient process from the time before flowers.