plants, they exist

N

nomadologist

Guest
the U.K. has chia pets, too?? hehe i always thought that was just a weird north american thing
 

bruno

est malade
just to remind myself how much i love botanical gardens. the peculiar structures, the humidity, the elderly couples, the weird plants and all that.
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
there was this one time i lived with people and relationships were severely strained, a very depressing time. when this happened i noticed the few plants we had stopped growing or whithered and died. this was the exact moment i realised they were living things. to be fair i didn't notice my brother and sisters existed until fairly late too but plants were always outside my field of vision, even when i was surrounded by them. i think it's to do with pace. plants seem lifeless to young people and we must seem a blur to them always.

if gardening is about an affinity with plants, a partnership, my gran's garden was a wild love affair. the house was always littered with sachets of seeds smuggled from different places, waiting to take root in her care. i remember the front and especially the back of the house, a dense oasis of ferns, flowers, delicate plants and an apricot tree, light piercing through the foliage. the toolshed was overgrown, everything was overgrown, but in a harmonious way. in her last years nurses and daughters began to discourage my gran's forays into the garden, and so it lost its colour and her mind faded away. today the garden is at the hands of my aunt and it is more organised, more neatly defined than it ever was with gran. a reflection of the way people shape things around them but more, i think, of how plants react to people.

did all of the plants died during this conflict? what i like about plants is that even when they look like on the verge of breaking, are devoid of all color and left without a leaf, it still is possible to bring them back to life. regulate the water intake or change the amount of direct sunlight. a good reminder to take good care of yourself and other people too. it will show effect.

the way you write about your gran's garden is very vivid and makes me dreamy. how does the garden look like now?

i'll go and look for a fern in the weekend, they're kinda magic aren't they?
 

sufi

lala
I had one that was hard to take care of and it died

I really like the ones that grow spontaneously on damp walls e.g. under railway bridges


apprently this one's called

Maidenhair Spleenwort -Asplenium trichomanes
 

sufi

lala
I had one that was hard to take care of and it died
or at least it started out as a couple of strands - cuttings, then thrived til it was like like a big handsome afro, then died shedding a mess of tiny crispy frondles
maybe they are annuals?
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
i was in the botanical garden today and it was so beautiful, there were hardly any people. i've seen beautiful cactuses. you wouldn't believe it but some have a fur that looks and feels exactly like that of a sheep. i wish i could spend the night there once. although i did hear that it's full of frogs that become active at night and make terrible noises.
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
i was in the botanical garden today and it was so beautiful, there were hardly any people. i've seen beautiful cactuses. you wouldn't believe it but some have a fur that looks and feels exactly like that of a sheep. i wish i could spend the night there once. although i did hear that it's full of frogs that become active at night and make terrible noises.

This almost reads like a Trump quote.
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
This bit in particular:

i was in the botanical garden today and it was so beautiful, there were hardly any people. i've seen beautiful cactuses.

And yeah, it's the short sentences and the way it jumps around a little. That and the repetition of the word 'beautiful'. He likes to use words like that. Tremendous, beautiful etc.
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
i just learned yesterday that the way to grow chicory is in abscence of light, so in dark spaces.
 

sufi

lala
i'm into the nasturtiums this year, my petals,
they are like what a flower would be like if someone saw a flower once then flew off into space and tried to reconstruct the thing from memory, all joined up wrong, stems and leaves and flowers all bodged together,
planted one last year and it's gone all over the place like a weed,
they are edible, like cucumber to start with then peppery,
the seeds look like alien artifacts and are apparently picklable like capers

its aquaphobic so it collects these little crystal balls of raindrops cupped in its leaves, and it can't seem to make up its mind if the flowers should be yellow red or orange,
the slightest frost and it's mush
 

constant escape

winter withered, warm
Don Juan Matus instructs Carlos Castaneda to apologize to plants which he uproots, and to assure them that one day, his own body will be their food. All in the interest of lowering one's sub-optimally calibrated sense of self-importance, or removing the ivory pedestal you have taken for granted. This allows for a grounding, a decompression from the usual psychic pressure we place on ourselves to rise above nature.
 
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