No it is not an as yet unheard by you sub sub-category of metal. This is not a music blog. I could see how you would maybe think it was a sub sub-category of metal that deserves a reference in a plant blog given it’s name, and given that there is every day new crazy science alluding to how certain music makes plants happier, or not at all happy.
I see that now and I understand how you could have made this assumption. You were wrong though. This is a dwelling on the inevitable death of all things Brassicae in your garden, an article about letting go and accepting the cruel transgressions inevitable to the circle of life in plants as in all things. So this is not an article about metal, but it’s definitely fucking metal, okay?
So let’s get all up in it. Your kale has millions of holes in it. our broccoli is shooting up flowers faster than you can harvest them. Your bok choi turned purple and won’t get any bigger than your fist. They want to die. All of them want to die and it’s important that you know this and it’s even more important that you accept that just this once it’s not really your fault.
These plants were not built for the oppressive heat of our mid-Spring southern climate. They are doing everything they can to return to the earth and do some good where there is good to be done. The Brassicae want to be part of a less cruel world, immediately. You probably won’t want to be here come August either.
These plants let down their natural defenses and let the caterpillars at them. This is why there are a million holes in your greens. It is the same with Chard. You will not win. It is time to say goodbye. You have slowly torn the limbs from your baby, your captive and your provider for too many months and it can no longer take the strains and rigors of this kind of life, if it can even be called that. It begged for the caterpillars to come and take it. Your Brassicae has suffered at your hands long enough. It gave and gave and gave and now it just wants to go. Say a prayer and say your goodbyes, for this is the end.
Others will intelligently go to seed. It will feel premature to you, but they know their time is come and want the next generation to follow the dreams they never had the courage to pursue. They want their genes to conquer the future. For you this means the plant will taste bad and the leaves will wither away and there will soon be nothing but hundreds of blueprints for the future waiting for you to nurture them.
Perhaps some of your greens have not sent out their suicidal pheromones to the insects of their micro-climatic universe, but doubtless they do not look incredible now. Am I right? Perhaps they simply droop. You want to give them more water, you want to see them perk up. And if you give them more water they will, but this is not sustainable. If you forget them for more than a couple of days, you will see that. It is too late for them. Harvest what you can and let the rest die a peaceful death.
Some of your offspring may be discolored. Perhaps they are yellow, perhaps they are purple (and they weren’t born to be purple). Either way it is because they are no longer getting the nutrients they count on to survive. This is again because they’ve essentially lost the will to live. The are so sad they can’t even will themselves to go to the kitchen and make a peanut butter jelly sandwich. We’ve all been there, no? Again it is simply their time. You must let it be.
Now is a time for another breed. The Brassicae may reign again come September, but meantime you must let your beans, squash and melons rule the dirt piles. Also prepare for the billions of weeds that you will be violently murdering throughout the summer if you have any intention of continuing to garden in the same space in subsequent seasons.
New York was right, you will find no kale in New Orleans. Not now, not really. Go eat some Chee-Wees hippie.
So I just said all that stuff, but actually my Scotch Curled Kale is still ruling the universe. This stuff lives through everything all the time. Grow some.
Ian writes these. Fearlessly.