Plants have sign language, too. Like any foreign language, you have to learn it before you can communicate.

Now I’m not going to tell you that plants make words and letters, but if you know how to read the signs, you can get a dialog going. Just be observant; I have plant conversations all the time. For example:

Plant with drooping leaves: “I’m sooo thirsty.  Haven’t you noticed how hot it’s been lately?”

Me watering plant: “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to neglect you. Here’s a drink.”

Plant with leaves growing turgid again: ”Oh, thank you. I feel much better. But don’t let this become a habit. It’s hard on my system to have to keep rehabilitating myself.”

See, wasn’t that pretty clear? There are other signs tool

Plant whose leaves look chewed on: “OUCH!  Something is definitely gnawing on my leaves, and if you don’t do something about it, soon I won’t have enough leaves left for photosynthesis, and I’ll die!!!”

Me, spraying the leaves with a sharp blast from my hose: ”You’re right, but stop being melodramatic.This should help. This usually rids you of chewing critters. I’ll spray again tomorrow.”

Plant the next day: “Too little, too late, Missy!  They’re still here and they’re annoying as the devil. I barely had a wink of sleep last night!”

Me, with a spray bottle of Neem Oil: “There, there. This should feel good, and it will smother those dratted chewers.”

Plant: “Oh, that does feel good, and my leaves are shiny, too! You do love me!”

And another day . . .

Plant with yellowing leaves: “We need to talk.  You know that yellow isn’t my color. Am I showing my age or what? It’s getting worse by the day. DO SOMETHING!”

Me, checking the soil around the roots: “Hmmmm. Well, it doesn’t seem to be caused by overwatering. Perhaps it’s your diet.  Maybe you’ve been overdoing it lately, and skipping out on the iron. Let’s try adding a little Ironite to your water.”

Plant, later that week: “Oh thank goodness.  I’m getting green again, and I feel so youthful. Must be like that Grecian Formula for plants.”

And yet another conversation . . .

Plant: ”Eeek! What is this white cottony stuff that is getting all over my twigs and branches? I noticed just a tiny bit a few days ago, but now it’s all over me.”

Me: “Relax, cupcake. I still have some Neem Oil and whether it’s mealy bugs or powdery mildew, it should take care of both. I’ll do a little judicious pruning to increase the air flow so that you’ll breathe easier, too.”

Plant: “I don’t mean to nag, but haven’t you noticed how crowded it’s getting? How do you expect me to have the time and energy to flower and grow when there’s barely enough room around my roots to swing a cat?

Me: “This may be a little uncomfortable at first, but I’m going to divide you into three plants so that you’ll all have room to grow and thrive. Believe me, you’ll all thank me later.”

So you can see how important communication is. In almost any of life’s situations, polite conversation can usually prevent escalation and restore harmony. As you walk around your garden, stop, look and listen. It has been proven that plants “talk” among themselves. They will alert their neighbors of impending perils, and even share water and nutrients. We can’t hear their private language, but they can communicate with us if we just pay attention. There’s some thinking by scientists that everything that has matter, even a spoon, is sentient.

Is that my dining room table I hear? OK, OK, I’m coming with the dust cloth.