A couple years ago I was driving between Spokane and Seattle. There’s a section of I-90 somewhere near Moses Lake that runs through cultivated fields, and all the different plants are labeled. As you drive along you’ll pass a sign that says “Alfalfa” and, oh, I guess that’s what a field of Alfalfa looks like. Then a sign that says “Wheat”, which didn’t look much like the wheat flour but I’m sure must be what wheat looks like before you pulverize it. Then there’s a few more fields of Alfalfa… popular stuff. Then there’s a sign that says “Rape”.
Well, actually, that’s not exactly what it says. It really says “Canola”. But Canola’s just a name for that particular breed of Rape. It’s not like the sign for wheat said “Red River Wheat”, or even something more general like “Emmer Wheat”. It just said “Wheat”. So that field of Canola was really a field of Rape. It turns out that rape is rape, no matter what you call it.
Well, I was a little familiar with the stuff from kitchen oils but I had even less idea what it looked like in the wild than I did with wheat. And it really stands out. Those little yellow flowers are hard to miss, at least in June, when it’s blooming. If I’d driven past there a month later I probably would have missed it completely. In fact, I had. That wasn’t the first or the last time I drove I-90, and I only really noticed it that one trip. Then I came home and promptly forgot all about it.
Last week a friend of mine pointed out a patch of rape on the side of the road. I hadn’t noticed it before… perhaps it had only just started to bloom, or perhaps I just wasn’t paying attention. But there it was. Sometimes rape is hiding where you least expect it, and you have to hope a friend brings it to your attention.
Then the other day, I was driving to Kamloops on the Falkland road. That route isn’t exactly overwhelmed with yellow flowers, so the rape really stands out. And it was everywhere. In the fields, in the ditches, along the train tracks. You couldn’t help but see it… as long as you knew what rape looked like. Otherwise you’d just wonder what that flower was without comprehending… or without even remembering, like I must have done last year every time I drove that road.
Just outside of Westwold I saw the reason for the abundance… someone was cultivating a field of rape. Where rape is encouraged it grows far thicker than elsewhere. But it wasn’t staying confined. It was spreading out along the fenceline. It was blowing in the wind. It was falling off the trucks and leaking out of the trains. Sometimes rape can grow nearly as abundantly where it is merely allowed as where it is actively encouraged.
It’s not just passive, though. It never really is. It thrives along the roads because the sheltering trees are trimmed back, so short shrubs get to dominate. But since nothing else is actively cultivated there, the rape is never mowed down.
It almost makes me sympathise with the anti-GMO people. Most of their arguments are nonsense. But the argument about Monsanto suing farmers who get rape blown into their fields… well, that’s almost believable. It’s never actually happened, but it’s easy to believe. Because rape just gets everywhere.
I wrote most of this post in my head last night. I procrastinated a little writing it down… and a good thing too, because I saw that last link about Monsanto just this morning. Saved me some research time. Then a couple hours ago I was out running, and I saw the rape my coworker had pointed out last week. I started wondering what the source was. When I looked past it, turns out there was a whole field of rape just beyond my view. I never noticed it until I was looking for it... until I realized it was most likely there, and tried to find some evidence.
On the way back, coming down Lodge road, I thought I saw some in the distance. Turns out they were just daisies… I guess I was looking too hard. But there yet another field of Rape sitting just behind them.
No comments:
Post a Comment