It quite irritated me, re-reading that I had called them “my” plants (in the previous photo journal post). Is that pronoun correct? Aren’t plants rather “ours”? Or don’t they belong to themselves?
Now I know plants can’t hear me. But we do breathe the same air and belong to the same soil.
Remember those moments of careless strolling? An art known as Flâneuserie in literature. I have enjoyed browsing through bookshops, bars or museums, practicing my collectioneuse habit of picking up postcards on my way. Nowadays I am practicing #stayhome, and suddenly the image of people in plastic container pops to my mind.
The white mustard young plants look a bit messy and weak, but they’re thriving, and blooming. I sowed them about one month ago in the backyard of the apartment building where I live – a shady garden nobody took care of for a long time, but still inhabited by a vegetal and animal crowd.
While making morning tea, I scan the sky through the kitchen window. I look at its blueness, the cloud shapes, I enjoy the light. Then I spot it. The heron’s morning route crosses my habitat. I squeak. A heron morning is a happy morning.
This morning a spider greeted me from the Tsing printout. I had gone to bed with her quote: “We are stuck with the problem of living despite economic and ecological ruination. Neither tales of progress nor of ruin tell us how to think about collaborative survival. It is time to pay attention to mushroom picking. Not that this will save us – but it might open our imaginations.”
The first hard disk who could store more than 1GB was produced by IBM in 1980 and was as big as a refrigerator. A company could buy it for a price ranging between $100.000 and $140.000 or make a leasing...
A convergence of circumstances involving work, burocracy, holidays, love, family, past memories and current issues made me fly eight times in a few weeks – quite above my standard and a bit stressful, to be honest, yet don’t worry, this...
Imagine waking up one morning with a similar growth coming out of your skin – maybe on some intimate part of it – and feel for this Tilia × europaea. It was the only specimen presenting such symptoms I could...