Guerilla Gardening

This year I've begun to feel this weird, unfounded urge to grow something. It started with a Venus flytrap that never grew - there were two tiny seeds in the packet, and neither worked.

Earlier this year I took in two baby rabbits - Zinnia and Fiona. My mom, as usual, said something akin to "weird names, huh?" I told her that I hate pet names (my friend said she'd name Fiona "One Sock," for example) and wanted people names for my intelligent rabbits. Fiona is Irish, and Zinnia is, well, a flower.

My mom apparently went out and purchased a bunch of Zinnia sprouts, and handed them to me, and said, "Here, Inky! Some zinnias!" And she smiled, and I do like flowers, I suppose. Even if zinnias aren't my favorite - actually, some of my least favorite. But... hey.

My dad suggested a garden for the outdoors, just to himself, and I said I'd like to join in. He asked what I wanted to grow, and randomly, out of my mouth, popped, "Sunflowers."

So he got me a starter kit and two packets of sunflower seeds - one that will get incredibly tall, up to thirteen feet, maybe more. There were a lot of those. Then, in another packet, were cutting sunflowers - short, but really intended for arrangements and bouquets.

I planted them. They're seedlings now, despite my rabbits' running around and trampling the seedlings a bit. But I moved them, and already, without the flowers - just the sprouts - they turn towards the sun. It's fascinating.

The tall ones... well, I have extra seeds. I could plant them outside and grow them from scratch there. Or, I decided, I could go to the city - some abandoned place, some pathetic patch of dirt outside a McDonald's parking lot or to the side of a construction site - and plant them there. Guerrilla gardening.

Okay, technically, it's illegal.

Maybe I'll leave a note saying, "Something's planted here to make your day brighter. Water me" - and then an arrow to the seed - "and I'll surprise you."

I won't sign it, of course, but that's exactly the point. I don't want to. It's more happy that way - more endearingly anonymous, and more fun when you see people smile because of a lone sunflower standing where it shouldn't.

Or, on the other hand, maybe I'll plant mint in the yard of the next person who makes me mad. Mint gets out of control fast. And if it's my neighbor... well, better smelling outdoorsy air for all of us, then... :)