how does it know?

The question comes to me as I trim a sprig of basil. Deep, foresty green, its freshness filling the air as it fills my hand.

How does this plant know what to grow into? How, after each time its leaves are trimmed does it know to again spring forth, pushing through what was removed to give new life? How does it know?

All it requires is sun, water, soil. Such a simple equation. How does it know?

And then the answer whispers, it knows because it is fed. 

It is fed. 

Nourished. 

And it knows.

And if it were not fed, it would not know. Every effort to spring up would be thwarted, scorched, shriveled.

But when it is fed--not just once, but daily sun, refreshing water, roots in soil--it knows. And then, only then, will it yield freshness and purpose and beauty.

xoxo.