It is late winter and as I look out at my backyard through a frost-covered window, I begin again, ignoring my many past failures, to plan several gardens of nourishing fresh vegetables and beautiful arrays of flowers, framed by a lush green lawn.
I cannot understand why, year after year, my horticultural efforts have not born fruit, blossoms or grass. I mean edible fruit, presentable flowers or a healthy green lawn. Could I have offended my backyard as far back as 1962 when I moved in? I remember following an oldtimer’s advice then of burning off last year’s crop of weeds. Without a neighbor’s quick help, I might have burned off my house and got on my plants’ “Most Dangerous Enemy” list.
AI tells me now that brainless plants do not have real emotions. But what about reactions? What about revenge ? AI admits plants do have something like emotions. I couldn’t get a straight answer on whether or not plants can harbor feelings of revenge. I mean, revenge is certainly a product of emotions.
Plants do have nervous systems and they are highly sensitive living organisms that feel the presence of light, touch, predators and nutrients but I couldn’t get a straight answer to my question: Can plants recognize the difference between a well-meaning, but numbskull gardener and an actual predator?
I have known for years that my lawn has an annual death wish and can become suicidal around July 15th. No amount of fertilizing, weeding or watering can delay this inevitable tragedy.
My rose bushes are hybrids which makes them high strung and moody. I can imagine the pessimistic conversations that go on out there in my rose garden: “Hey Pinky, is he gone?”…..”Yes, Rosey, he was feeding me manure again, Yuck! He thinks it will get rid of my black spots. I hope they’re getting worse. The last thing I want is a lot of gorgeous blooms, crawling with beetles and those buzzing bees making a racket.”
Vegetables also have feelings. I’ve always known this instinctively. I silently cursed broccoli when my wife served it. My brother-in-law, who’s not an expert in the field of agriculture, looked over my garden last summer and commented, “Those are the saddest-looking tomatoes I’ve ever seen.” He was right. They never made it into our BLT’s.
I really hope, with the recent advances into the psyches of our rooted fellow earthlings, our ability to protect and improve their lives is increasing. Our crops will be more abundant and our gardens will cooperate by joining the survival team.
On some future day, a distraught gardener will phone his agri-psychiatrist. “Doctor, I have this twenty-foot apple tree that is dropping leaves and showing no signs of producing fruit. Please come over and get in touch with his inner self.”
“Sorry, I don’t make yard calls, but this sounds serious. You’d better get that tree over here as soon as possible!”
On some future date.
Imagine That 