Milk can stories

 Raindrops fell into an old milk can with something growing in it. I don't know what. I liked how it looked in the milk can, so I just let it do its thing. It reached a point where people who saw it commented on how unusual and pretty it was. When asked what it was, I told them it was a story plant. They would say, 'Very nice.

I spent many hours of my adult life writing stories about various things, and I usually wrote on the front porch, as it was a soothing place with views of the hills and endless forests, all of which were topics for the stories I loved to write.

I decided my porch needed more milk cans, so I found some at a farm that was no longer in operation and offered the farmer five dollars apiece, which he agreed was fair. I set them on the porch with the original can I've had for many years, giving them time to grow into something, and I didn't care what it was. It didn't take long, and sprouts began to show, trying to turn into something no one could put a name to. Some say they were weeds that sustained themselves on the dried milk inside the cans.

Others said they were air plants that didn't need soil to grow; that was interesting. In time, each milk can had blooms of all shapes and colors, and people kept coming to my porch to see these strange and beautiful plants.

Each plant told me a story about someone or something  I found interesting, and I ended up including them as a character in my writing. One after another, characters were born sitting on my porch, and stories were written. The milk can stories began with one milk can and dozens of people from all walks of life freely sharing their stories with me for reasons unknown. 

Maybe it was the way they just were, or perhaps the milk cans reminded them of something on their granddad's farm. I don't know. I do, however, know I was inspired to write more stories and buy more milk cans.

Mike 2025