Nature’s Companions

| By Taslin Pollock |

The sunlight tap danced upon the surface of the canal to a silent rhythm. The wildflowers brushing against both sides of the waterway, threatening to encroach still further. Alongside the common hogweed, the almond essence from the creamy white floral clusters of meadowsweet flavoured the air. Nestled deep within the flora, froglets shuffled, hopped, and jumped.

Oblivious to it all, a young boy pedalled his red bike down the centre of the towpath. His mother, walking faster than she would have liked, was pushing a pram where her newborn daughter was teetering on the verge of much needed sleep.

“Aadil, not so fast,” the mother scolded. Her voice carried in the wind, as Aadil eventually squeezed his break lever before placing both feet on the tarmac.

Aadil glanced over his shoulder but waited until his mother was closer before explaining. “I’m looking for the swans. They were here the last time we came this way to see Dadi Ma.”

“That was ages ago, before Nysa was born,” his mother sighed, before taking in Aadil’s downcast face. “They might be hiding up ahead where the canal boats are usually moored. We’ll look together.”

Aadil’s smile lit up his whole face. The moment was ruined when Nysa began to stir, her shrill cries frightening a neighbouring peacock butterfly.

“I think she needs a nappy change. Let’s get to Dadi Maa’s quickly. We can look for swans another day,” his mother told him as she fussed over his sister.

“No! As soon as Nysa starts crying, you forget about me,” Aadil complained, taking off down the towpath on his bike, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He braked hard when he reached the canal boat, the pair of swans, nowhere in sight. He placed his bike against the wall and sat crossed legged on the towpath to keep watch just in case. He was so focused; he nearly missed a froglet making its first foray from the canal onto land.

Aadil lay his hand down on the ground, in the hope that the froglet might venture towards him, but the froglet headed into the neighbouring nettles instead. Undeterred, Aadil reached his hand between the nettles, before pulling his hand back in sharp pain. He clutched his hand and this time, let the tears fall.

“What happened?” His mother asked him moments later, finally catching up with him. Aadil showed her his hand and pointed to the offending nettles.

“A nettle sting? Ouch. Let me look for a dock leaf. They usually grow nearby,” His mother explained, quickly locating the plant and pulling off one of the leaves. She rubbed it on his hand, “this should help a little and we can wash your hand properly in soapy water when we get to Dadi Ma’s. Better?” When he nodded, she kissed away his tears and pointed to a sleeping Nysa. Aadil cycled the rest of the short journey in silence.

As usual, Dadi Maa was in the front garden tending to her wide array of coloured rose bushes bordering her lawn. Aadil placed his bike and cycle helmet down on the grass before running over to her, showing her his hand and still clutching the dock leaf with the other. Dadi Maa took in her grandson’s tear-stained face and knelt down and hugged him.

“Lovely to see you, Beta. Let’s go wash your hands,” Dadi Maa took his hand in hers.

“I need to change and feed Nysa,” his mother said, disappearing into the house with the baby.

Aadil watched them go and stuck out his bottom lip before walking into the bathroom and dumping the dock leaf in the bin.

“I thought you liked being a big brother?” Dadi Maa said, squirting a little hand soap on Aadil’s upturned hands.

Aadil shook his head vigorously. “Nysa cries all the time, even at night when I’m sleeping and when she sleeps during the day, I have to be really quiet. I wanted to stay on the canal and look for swans, but Nysa was crying.”

“New babies need lots of attention,” Dadi Maa nodded slowly in understanding before turning on the tap. “I have an important job to do in the garden and I really need somebody to help me.”

“I can help you Dadi Maa,” Aadil volunteered.

“I was hoping you would. Come with me,” Dadi Maa led him back out into the front garden and over to her potting bench. “You will need to wear my gardening gloves and you will need my trowel. These new lavender plants need to go between the roses.”

“Why?” Aadil asked, putting his small hands into the oversized gloves.

Dadi Maa handed Aadil the trowel and carried one of the lavender plant pots over to the nearest rose of apple red petals. “In gardening, lavender and roses are called companion plants. The rose actually reminds me of you and the lavender reminds me of your sister Nysa.”

“Because I am the tallest?” Aadil suggested, looking pleased.

“Yes. The rose and the lavender are very different from one another, but they quickly become the best of friends. When they are planted next to each other, they help the other to grow.”

“How?” Aadil asked as he started to dig a hole in the moist soil.

“They look after one another and protect the other from diseases and pests which means they both grow stronger. A lot of people grow flowers alongside their vegetables for this reason. Ann, from next door, plants calendula flowers next to her broccoli plants because the flowers keep the aphids away from her broccoli. She also plants sunflowers next to her tomato plants. The sunflowers attract lots of bees to the tomatoes and that is why she grows so many tomatoes. There are many plants in nature that thrive when they are grown together.”

“Like the nettles and the dock leaves?” Aadil inquired, taking the lavender plant from the pot and placing it in the hole, before covering it with soil with Dadi Maa’s help.

“Exactly. Nature is very clever like that. We can learn a lot from nature. You know, soon, Nysa will be tall like you and she will want to look for swans with you.”

“I will look after her, don’t worry Dadi Maa,” Aadil said, looking at the lavender and rose together.