We should all realise by now that nature hates us. Plants use their roots to whisper among themselves, according to the latest research, conspiring underground, plotting our destruction. They “prompt their neighbours to grow more aggressively, presumably to avoid being left in the shade”. That sounds like a rather charitable presumption to me. We underestimate their capacity for nefarious scheming at our peril. And they save their nastiest trick for this time of year.
We fall for it every time. “See how pretty we are!”, they say. “Wonder at our divine colours, marvel at our sublime textures; how delicate is our beauty! Love us.” It is an act of the damnedest subterfuge, for this is the time of year they also just happen to start bellowing out their Powder of Deep Suffering, which they would rather we call pollen. And we’re supposed to believe this is some kind of coincidence?
