I mean that sounds like a curse. Endless screaming. Where others may see a cute bunny munching on some grass, or a bee buzzing around a flower, all you will hear are shrieks of pain and abject terror.
i’ve always thought that if plants could talk they’d be unflinching hedonists who just shrug when harmed and will not hesitate to invite ANYTHING to have a fun time with them.
“ohhh yeah baby eat my fruit! spit the seeds out!” cut to human freezing in the middle of taking a bite, staring in horror at the apple tree
I can talk to plants so they can tell me how terrible I am as a caretaker.
I mean that sounds like a curse. Endless screaming. Where others may see a cute bunny munching on some grass, or a bee buzzing around a flower, all you will hear are shrieks of pain and abject terror.
I’d imagine the sounds of a plant being pollinated would rather be moans of pleasure.
i’ve always thought that if plants could talk they’d be unflinching hedonists who just shrug when harmed and will not hesitate to invite ANYTHING to have a fun time with them.
“ohhh yeah baby eat my fruit! spit the seeds out!”
cut to human freezing in the middle of taking a bite, staring in horror at the apple tree
I would still chose this; can’t figure out what’s wrong with my dahlias.
You’re absolutely right. How do you prune? Weed? What horrors when the neighbor mows her lawn!