Strain: Money Trees

Circular Whisper: A Plant’s Tale

A 4-PART STORY - PART 2, SELF-SABOTAGE

WORDS AND PHOTOS KAT DONNELLY

Here we are, two weeks into trying to make it in an artificial medium under artificial lights. My tap root is missing, and I can’t feel the vibrations of Father Sun and Mother Earth anymore. My sisters and I wonder why we can’t go back outside to be with our mothers and our living community above and below the earth.

We sense the humans approaching us and can feel the concern in their voices as they speak to each other.

“Any idea what’s going on with these clones?” We knew the other humans called this one the investor. “Where did you get them?” He sounded weary and confused.

Our Master Grower replied hopefully, “We got them from an outdoor field in the Emerald Triangle. Don’t worry; the plants are trying to adapt... Yesterday, we adjusted the temps and humidity. We’re dialing it all in to get ahead of what could be another powdery mildew flare-up caused by the heat from the lights. Don’t worry, though. We’ve got it under control.”

“How did these plants ever survive outside?” the investor replies sardonically. “When do you think you’ll be moving them into flower? We need to sell the flowers soon.”

“Another week or so, but I think these need a few extra days,” says the Master Grower, as she tenderly runs her fingertips over our leaves.

“That won’t do. We need to keep the schedule.” The voices are growing fainter as they move out the door. “You know if we lose a few days, it’ll throw off the whole rotation. Do whatever it takes to make it work.”

With a thud, we’re alone again. I notice my drooping leaves - or what’s left of them, anyway. New growth comes so slowly now. I am trying to will my tips up to pray to the few frequencies that are still available. I need to collect the energy from the light, but it’s difficult. Without the sun and the earth, I can’t produce my own sunscreens and insect repellents. I sense my sisters are also struggling, but our communications channels are weak and beginning to fail.

We have been sprayed with something that makes me feel heavy. It closed my pores and changed my pH, and now I can’t feel the light as strongly. The spray killed most of the insects, but more keep coming. Sometimes there are insects from far-off places that I’ve never before experienced. These foreign insects and chemicals remind me that my immune system is failing and that we are all weak.

The artificial light coming from above is oppressive to the humans that come and go and to us. It is intensely bright, but we can feel that there is less than a quarter of the frequencies we used to get from the sun shining down on us. I remember the comforting tingle of ultraviolet (UV) energy that I never feel these days. Without UV, our trichomes, flavonoids, cannabinoids, and more will never express their full