Garden Variety Secrets

Garden Variety Secrets

Non-essential Research America.

March 2024 Issue 567 .

We, at Nonessential Research America (NRA), pride ourselves in obtaining the latest in any groundbreaking research. In the field of horticulture scientists have known for years that plants communicate with one and other. (NRA Jan. ’21 issue 234). We have known that plants of the same species, and in some cases the same class interact through their root systems.

What has recently come to light is the extent to which they interact. Below follow transcripts made from recordings we obtained from a student task force at a well-respected university. The contributors, however. wish to remain anonymous at this time. Their research shows the intelligence and sophistication of the communication system in what we think of as lower species.

July 14, 2023 – (Recorded in the apple orchard belonging to Farmer Smith).

(A child’s voice – giggles) I did it, I did it! I hid under my leaf. The big thing in the sky with the smoke behind it didn’t get me. There! Pffth!

Hah! As soon as it rains, all that stuff with run off the leaf and get you anyways.

Noo! Mum?

(Distant voice) He’s right.

Besides, do you want that earwig eating its way through you?

Which one? Where? Where is he?

There, just behind your right shoulder.

Where…where is my right shoulder?

~~~~~~~

July 22, 2023 (Recoded in the organic wheat field, property of Holey Foods, approx. two miles ENE from Farmer Smith’s apple orchard) .

Mommy, my eyes burn!

I know sweetie, it’ll pass.

But…

Don’t whine.

But why do they hurt, mommy?

Oh, my. (sigh) Do you remember that plane that flew over very low, near that apple orchard?

You mean last week, over those big trees?

Exactly. That plane had a big plume of smoke, didn’t it?

You told me to close my eyes.

But you had a few open didn’t you?

Yes, mommy.

That plume wasn’t smoke, it was pesticide.

What’s that?

Pesticide kills insects.

Oh no! Kills them? Those little things that crawl all over me? Like this one. Hey. You want that kernel? Sure, you can have that one. Ouch. Bye.

(sigh) Yup, those.

Aw…

Right. It kills most of them, not all. The rest become immune, so next time the plane comes back it will bellow something else. Remember there was some rain later that night, right?

I think so.

There was, but it wasn’t enough to wash off all the poison. And today the wind is blowing some of it this way and that’s what’s getting in your eye.

So, am I going to die, mommy? I don’t want to die.

No, but it’ll make us a little less organic. I guess the farmer is not too worried about that.

Oh.

~~~~~~~

We’ll take a look at another transcripts. We are honor bound to inform the reader that we had to employ the service of an interpreter certified in working with the developmentally challenged.

July 24, 2023 (non-organic wheatfield, property of Holey Foods, Inc.)

Unk Gee, my eyes hurt.

They shouldn’t.

How come?

Don’t rightly know. I reckon I forgot.

Aunt Em, do you know?

Litl Jo, they did stuff. Doctoring kind-a stuff, I think. No, wait! Does anyone remember what they did to us?

(distant voice, yelling) They got to our innards.

(Another distant voice) DNA, that’s what they did.  

Right, thanks. They mod-i-fied our … whatever Unk Oh said. It lets us grow big. And now our eyes don’t burn and out feet don’t hurt no more when they add that … Litl Jo where you goin’?

Aunt Em, my eyes do burn, and my feet hurt, and my tummy is always upset. 

Oh, don’t you worry none about that. Just come back and grow big.

No, Aunt Em, I’m going to the other side of the street. They look like they are more my size.

~~~~~~

The following was overheard back on the other side of the street, still on Holey Foods property.

Hey little fellow. Who are you?

They call me Litl Jo, ma’am. I came to talk with you, ‘cause I don’t think I belong over there. They all say that the dirt doesn’t hurt their feet, and the cloud of dust doesn’t burn their eyes. But they hurt mine.

Well, come to think about it, you do look a little like you might be one of Susan’s seedlings. One rolled across the street just before she was harvested, if I remember right.

Why do we get tortured, ma’am?

Oh sweetie, they don’t think of it as torture. But then they probably don’t think much. Just dig your little feet in over here. Yes, that’s good. Let me see if I can explain it. Whenever they think they can make things better for themselves, they kill off a little bit of us. First, they made the air dirty with their coal burning and automobiles. Then they went around trying to kill all the bugs. Well, that bug killer stuff doesn’t go away easily. It’s everywhere. It’s what makes your eyes burn and your tummy upset…. Hm, I wonder, maybe Marvin isn’t my fault. Maybe he blew over, like Litl Jo went that way.

Mommy?

Yes, Marvin?

Marvin not going there, right? They look big and scary.

Oh, baby, no. You don’t know that you are just as big as them, do you? No, you just say close to Mommy.

(Voices relaying from a distance, coming closer.) Everybody, hold your breath, close your eyes! Here comes another one.

(car passing).

(Jeers, coughing, more jeers and coughing from the other side of the road).

Okay, Little ones, it has passed. But remember, you don’t want to breath that sh … I mean stuff.

Euw! But Mommy, it’s all over me. How do I get it off?

Pray for rain, baby. Pray for rain.

~~~~~

We’ll leave the almost organic wheat to their prayers and go back to sit under and listen to the apple trees. The ones that are blowing some of their pesticide around.

Oh granny, I don’t think I want to hang in there anymore.

Well, Mrs. Smyth, I’m not sure you have a choice.

Aren’t your bones aching? Your roots all stiff and scarred?

Of course, they are. After all I’ve been standing here for more than sixty years. I’ve lived through DDT and everything they’ve thrown at us ever since. And don’t get me started on those so-called fertilizing pellets. Oh, I do hanker after the good-old taste of horse manure. That was some good eating. But Mrs. Smyth you just have to put your energy into growing new roots.

I would Granny, but there’s so little room and all the dirt is full of those pellets and the runoff from our leaves. And there aren’t enough earthworms around anymore to make the dirt nice and loose.

Now, now, Mrs. Smyth. Get a hold of yourself. We’re all standing in the same dirt. I agree that our babies aren’t as big as we used to grow them, but the farmer doesn’t seem to mind. Now I do believe that if you dig a little deeper and go under Mrs. Smithy’s roots …

Hey, stay out of my roots! I just had them done.

~~~~~

Since the conversation deteriorates after this, we will go to Old Grains now.

Oh, that doeth stimulate. (discreet chuckle)

Pray tell, Madam. Share your mirth.

Oh, I’m sure I shouldn’t. There are children about.

I see, small pots do have big ears. Now you really have piqued my curiosity, Madam.

Maybe if you lean in a little. (rustling followed by whispers). There is a slug among my silks.

(Giggles)

(The sound of a car approaching.)

Oh dear. Another one of those horseless carriages. Pray brothers and sisters and hold your breath.

(Car passing; much coughing and retching.)

Oh, it just is beyond the pale. Why are we to be subjected to this? We are a noble breed. Isn’t it enough that the soil is completely denuded of natural nutrients, and we have to absorb the horrible poison that is too slow in breaking down, and we can’t help but ingest whatever is in the air? And this …

~~~~~

Editor’s note:

The remainder of the recording may have been tampered with. We offer our apologies for not being able to give you the completed research. We made several attempts to contact both Farmer Smith and Holey Foods Inc. but were unable to get any comments.

We encourage our readers to draw their own conclusions.