strange dreams of caffeinated bees

I was sure I had imagined and/or dreamt the story of training lazy bees with caffeine to target strawberry scented robot flowers to promote more efficient pollination. But it turns out that, although more conservatively titled online, this is clearly a story about pollinator training experiments published in the Guardian. Aspects had exaggerated, but the basics are there

These experiments, and others like them, fill me with a kind of queasiness. I see myself reflected in the lazy bee, that might pollinate the commercial strawberry crop, or might find itself drawn back into a hedgerow for a bit of forage, a bit of variety. I also feel a touch of myself in that idea of a sentient part in a machine, the more efficient because it can self-govern, but the higher risk because it might decide not to do the target task. 

A garden is a mass of variables, change, expression of plants, insects, growth. The gardener controls, to a greater or lesser extent, their expression, their position, what thrives, what dies. In the months after my stroke, there were physical considerations; exhaustion, light sensitivity, confusion. But there was also a sense of deep-seated self-mistrust.

If I were a plant, would I be out of place? Not thriving? In the green bag, the brown bin? Would I weed myself?

So, things got away from me rather. I now have a properly overgrown garden. Some things have certainly died, outcompeted by bindweed and other thugs. A few of the fences may now be rather troubled. I'll backfill the story of how I lost my allotment later.

But weeds have their own value, their own importance. Your weeds tell you what your garden wants, and what it needs, what the insects expect to find there, and what will call in the beasts and birds. Enchanters Nightshade tells me I sit at a woodland border shaded, neglected. Huge spreading clumps of Green Alkanet speak of shady, undisturbed soil, rich in parts. Hedge Woundwort, with its armpit stink and scrambling stems, murmurs about hard clay, inconsistent water availability for shallower roots. I chop, I cut, I weed, I learn.

Clearing back, taking the lessons as I go, making it better.