Not really. They try to absorb all the nutrients and water for themselves and throw seed to compete their neighbours out of existence. Bastards. No morals at all, just all out war all the time. No more peaceful than the Somme, with shells like popping seeds, while the Gods above might have admired the beautiful traces of the trenches.
...while beneath the leaves the innsects fight and eat each other, and the mice scurry fearful of the hawks above. An awful scene of unending horrors, really...
I know, how to give you fodder, dear Andrew, don't I? :)
Splendid! Thank you, Sean. :)
Reality gives me all the fodder I ever need, Dear Sean. Sometimes I feel very lonely there though, because most other people do not seem to live in Reality.
Glad I could please your eyes, Claude & CherryPie. :)Once again; Andrew I don't disagree.