Do Plants Have Feelings?



I always like to include a photo or two with my blog posts,  but I couldn’t find a single one that would be appropriate for today’s column.  Since daughter Bridget is a professional artist, I decided to include the painting above which always makes me smile. I hope it makes you smile, too.  

Back in 2008 I wrote a column about how the Swiss had amended their constitution to protect the dignity of plants.  A panel of philosophers, lawyers, geneticists and theologians added a new rule to the law known as the Gene Technology Act, establishing exactly how to prevent humans from humiliating the country’s flora.

Switzerland’s new  rule stated that vegetation has an inherent value and it is immoral to arbitrarily harm it.  Geneticists must consider whether they are disturbing the vital functions or lifestyle of the plants they are tinkering with.

For instance, one scientist, Dr. Keller, who wanted to do a field trial on wheat bred to resist a fungus, had to first explain to the government ethicists why the trial “wouldn’t disturb the wheat” and convince them that "it would not in any way mortify the wheat to be protected from the fungus.”

As long as a plant’s independence, its reproductive and adaptive abilities were insured, however, the rule stated that its dignity would be safeguarded, so Dr. Keller finally got  permission to plant the wheat.  Unfortunately a group opposed to genetic modification of crops invaded the test field and scythed down all the wheat.  How’s that for protecting the dignity of plants?

Since I considered the Swiss rule totally extreme, I went on the Internet yesterday to see if it was still in force.  When I Googled the Gene Technology Act  I found that Australia, France, Tasmania and many other countries have added the Act to their constitution.  There were way too many websites listed for me to read them all, so I never found out  which countries included a rule similar to Switzerland’s. 

Nowadays genetically modified organisms, GMOs,  have been scientifically proven to be environmentally safe, and are promising better, more abundant and cheaper foods, especially in poor countries.  The Swiss rule forces scientists who want to experiment in improve crops to go through just too many hoops to prove their efforts  won’t be breaking the law. 

If plants really have feelings, could you ever lop off the head of a blooming zinnia, or shred a cabbage for coleslaw?  Does it really destroy the dignity of seedless grapes to render them sterile? I'd love to eat a peach that no longer had fuzz, or a watermelon that didn't have seeds. 

There are still many people who are totally against GMO. I’m not one of them. As you readers know, however, I often treat my plants anthropomorphically.  I love talking to them, and like the idea that they have feelings.  I suspect that  corn stalks  who have experienced GMO are happily celebrating the fact that scientists are working to eliminate that ugly corn borer from invading their ears.

I once read  about an experiment performed by the Reverend Franklin Loehr,  a scientist and theologian, who planted flower seeds in two different beds. He gave each bed identical amounts of soil, sunshine and water.  He prayed over one of the beds every day, but left the other bed to the devil.  The church going flowers grew to gigantic proportions while the heretics barely bloomed. 

Now isn’t that what a green thumb is all about?  A love of growing things that communicates itself to the plants being cared for? I hope you fellow  gardeners will enjoy planting your flowers and vegetables this spring and speak kindly to each seedling as you nestle it into the soil.

California Gardens



I know I promised to write about the  gardens my girls and I saw on our week’s vacation in California, but I had no idea what a challenge it would be.  I suspected that Lotusland, 40 acres of rare palm trees, cacti,  euphorbia and other unpronounceable plants, would be difficult to describe, so I was eager to visit the small Buddhist garden in Encinitas first.

By the time we reached this incredibly peaceful place of meditation I was so stressed by driving on a 5 lane highway in bumper to bumper traffic that I fell in love with it. The gnarled, twisted trunks of ancient palm trees vanished among the flowering shrubs at either side of the walkway, all perfectly placed to offer a gentle shadow to the tiny cyclamen blooms that peeked out from the greenery of moss and ivy, or warm sunlight to the  sparkling orange petals of a Bird of Paradise blossom.

Only bird song and the gentle murmur of water disturbed the silence, though many visitors strolled the paths. A tiny stream tumbled over rocks to a pool where golden and white koi swished the water into ripples as they swirled back and forth. Small side paths led up from the dappled shade into sudden brilliant sun and the breath-taking blue of the Pacific ocean far below.

 I took a dozen photos, many included below, before I realized what made this garden so appealing – the smallness of its plantings.  There were no overwhelming masses of bloom, just beautifully placed single flowers set among the moss and ivy, no vast stretches of landscape, merely  a single clump of perfectly place blossoms set among the soft restful greenery of ferns.  Here and there one could find a comfortable bench beside the path offering rest and meditation. 

I assumed I’d find the names of the various plants we saw in the provided brochures, but I was wrong.  They were all about religion  and the “Self-Realization Fellowship.”  

Lotusland is in Santa Barbara so it took us four hours to get there from La Joya, and two hours to cover the vast acres of gardens as our tour guide (required) stopped frequently to tell wonderful stories about their creator, Madame Ganna Walska.  This amazing lady acquired the estate in 1947 and spent close to 50 years planning and designing the gardens and acquiring the vast number of plants and husbands (she had six) during her lifetime. 

I was correct in thinking that Lotusland would be  impossible to describe, and far too enormous to depict in either words or pictures. Since our very knowledgeable guide spoke too fast for this deaf old lady to understand her tales, and the book the girls bought for me was only filled with unpronounceable Latin names and technical information about plant origins,  I’m afraid I missed a lot.

But just walking along the paths was mind-boggling. The trees soared overhead, easily reaching 50 or more feet high, lotus  blossoms were as wide across as dinner plates, an arbor in the citrus garden dripped well over a hundred brilliant yellow lemons above our heads. There were pools shaded by giant palms and ferns, paths lined with rare cacti in every shape and size. 

There’s really no way to describe it all, so if you’re ever in California, you should make reservations in advance and go to Lotusland.  Here are a few pictures.  

           The  palms in this photo are Encephalarios woodi.   They are extinct in the wild.    Madame Walska paid $2500.00 each for these two treasures.  

Somehow we managed to see one more garden, quite near La Joya, which was a total contrast to Lotusland.  It contained many of the same plants, but as single specimens, which made them seem very special instead of being in a group of a 100 which was almost overpowering.  I took just two photos in this botanical garden, the lady at the top of this column, and the strange looking tree below.    Do you know what kind of  tree this is?

                           




                              It's a Fig Tree