The Story of Gertooed

 

There will always be a special place in my collection for Gertooed, my very first bonsai. She’s a juniper, and our mascot at Zenbonsai. To me, she’s the immaculate one.

I got into bonsai because I wanted something living to accent my meditation shrine. Nothing seemed more fitting. One day, driving down the road, I saw an elderly man with a kind, wrinkled smile selling little trees from the back of his truck. I picked out a juniper, and he charged me $80, handing it over with a nod that felt like a quiet blessing.

I named her Gertrude and for a month or two, Gert was fine. Then, she started to fade. I dove into research and discovered the truth: the tree wasn't a properly developed bonsai. The man had simply taken a young juniper, clipped it into a vague shape, and potted it in heavy, compacted soil. He was a salesman, not a gardener.

Hoping to save her, I took her out to a quiet spot in the forest and planted her there, giving her back to the earth. "Get well," I told her. "I'll check on you next year."

Meanwhile, determined to succeed, I bought a new juniper and dedicated myself to learning the real art of bonsai. I was so eager I even tried using an LED grow light, which gave her a slight sunburn. Lesson learned. I moved her to a west-facing window, and there, she simply… thrived. She became Gertooed (Gert Two).. 

The mystery, the one I can't quite solve, is why every other juniper I’ve bought since has slowly crisped away, no matter what I do. I’ve had three, and none have made it.

But Gertooed? She’s still here.

Sometimes I wonder if that first man on the roadside wasn't just a salesman, but a kind of matchmaker for plants and people. Maybe he wasn't selling me a perfect tree, but the right tree. Maybe it was an invitation to open the door to a new passion. A glimpse of a path I didn't even know would become such a  Zen part of my journey.