My “ivy” is symbolic to me. The first time I moved out with a roommate, her parents cut her off a couple vines of this plant from their own house-warming plant to celebrate her getting a new house. She didn’t care diddly about it and it essentially became mine in the three months we lived together.
Here in Big City, there’s a fungus in the soil that, on windy days, can be blown into plants. My ivy was not native to this soil and, by the end of the first day, it had oily black spots across its leaves. By the end of the second day, it had spread to all but a couple leaves. We immediately evacuated the dead and brought the plant back inside, but the damage was done.
When I first got sick, 6 full weeks ago now, I decided it needed more sunlight, so I put it back outside. A few leaves got sick, but mostly it has baked in the sunlight…. but it’s also grown new leaves “from the ashes.” It hadn’t grown AT ALL while inside for the last year, but only since the leaves died off this last time has it begun to grow.
With that, a new plant has begun.