The Garden I
The Garden II
The Garden III
The Garden IV
So the son kept transplanting a seed from the gardening plants that he would and could save from the polluted garden into his father's greenhouse. One day, he finished his work on the plant he took out of the garden on the evening of that fateful day it had been polluted. He had made a seed that would be his own special plant, which he could say things through in the gardening plant's language. He did not like it so much, considering being as limited as the plants were. But this was the way he could save the most before moving day.
So he found a gardening plant with tender lil' tendrils that he liked and told her about the special seed he had made to make a special baby plant. The gardening plants remembered stories of their ancient plant ancestors being told by the Gardeners that there would be a special baby plant one day. So she was happy and took and nurtured the lil' seed he gave her. It was not much to look at, but the important thing was that there was none of the pollution in it. This was meant to be so to teach the gardening plants a lesson about the pollution. For it did not matter what pollution looked like to them, especially since it was in their eyes.
There were some plants who hardly remembered the Gardeners at all by now. For the plants only lived a day from the pollution and many days had passed. So they did what was right in their own eyes.
On that day the son stayed in the garden the whole day of his plant's life and kept the pollution out of his lil' plant as it grew in size. It was not easy. He was ready to begin, so he had his plant start wandering a section of the garden teaching. He said a lot of the same things that his plants that sat up on the rocks to clear their eyes of the pollution had said. For that is what he had told them to say and why he had cleared their eyes. Yet he also taught more than they did, things that seemed simple to him. Often he just said that when you plant a seed and garden it, it grows and other simple things like that which he knew. He knew, because his father taught him gardening. As he taught he thought, "It's a good thing that this is not that complicated."
But he could see the gardening plants thought things were very, very complicated. They would say, "Why this? Why that? Me no like...." and so on. Then he would just give them another simple answer.
His plant was different than the plants that sat on the rocks and sometimes grew a little thin to avoid the pollution. He had done some things through them. But now he told the plants about streams of living water and then his mother would water some of the plants around his lil' plant and they would get green, like the type of plant the Gardeners had always meant them to be.
(That's it for now. But way in the future, after many generations of plants some little plants started trying to say that the Gardener's way of allowing the lil' plants in on the creative process through their reproduction system actually was the one and only creative process. It was just a creative process in and of the garden itself. They said that the garden selected and created all things through "gardening selection." This was a way to say that gardening could ultimately go on its own. For did the lil' plants not have a role in gardening and that portion of the creative process?
Since those plants were very annoying lil' plants, the Gardener got out his weed wacker....)