One of the first things I planted in my garden 14 years ago was a rosemary. It was a tiny plant that I knew would spread and enhance my garden with its elegant shape.
I kept it trimmed and used the leaves to occasionally add flavour to my cooking. Other times, I deliberately would run my hands through the leaves just so I could release that wonderful scent.
Who could forget that memorable day I toppled over backwards into the bush, falling flat on my back among the foliage? The smell of the essential oil of the rosemary followed me around for the rest of that day and is captured in my sensual memories.
My rosemary bush started to die back over recent times and I saw the inevitable was happening. Clipping the tips, I potted those cuttings to create strong little plants. Offspring to replace the parent plant.
Today I removed the dead plant from its place in the ground. The cycle of life is complete.