There they go again. Every year at this time it’s the same thing. The plant world, a world I have always supported in word (in my writing about environmental protection) and in deed (eating lots of vegetables) turns on me. And this year it’s worse than usual.
I refer, of course, to this awful pollen season. Not only in Philly where I live, but around the country.
Why do they do it? Why do plants think they have the right to impose their sexual proclivities on my sensitive breathing passages? I mean, do I lay my sack trip on them? I do not!
Don’t get me wrong. I may not have an agrarian background, but I understand that they have to do “it.” What I’m simply saying, nay, demanding, is that they limit pollination to its nature designated purpose — reproduction.
Just because the sun is out and the stem crowd is feeling frisky, and their stamens and pistols are hot to trot, doesn’t mean that they have to cut loose in a manner that makes other living creatures suffer. Enough with the profligate behavior. Keep it within traditional bounds. For reproduction and not for fun.
And oh yeah. Tell your bee pals to keep it down, too.