To many, the Botanical Gardens are a short-cut to New World Gardens or a nice place to picnic. To members of the species Stoneri botanis (The Botan Stoner), however, the Gardens are their natural habitat. The Botan Stoner is an abundant species native to the ecosystem of Ōtepoti. This species of fauna (and the flora found in their pockets) are unfortunately in gradual decline, due to competition from the related Stoneri reclusivicus – because indoors is where the cartoons are.
Stoneri botanis can be difficult to spot if you don’t know where to look, due to the creature’s propensity for earth-toned clothing. But to the trained eye (and nose), they’re everywhere – squinting through clouds of smoke at ducks, giggling at plant signs, and napping in the sun. A key question emerges: what is it about the Botans that’s attracted this exotic species? And how can we help them return to their natural habitat in their former numbers?
To investigate, the naturalists at Critic Te Ārohi would have to blend in. It takes one to know one; as an Antarctic naturalist might disguise themselves as a penguin, Critic would need to assume the identity of the species we were studying. If we were, hypothetically, to undertake such an investigation, we’d arm ourselves with the Clong (Clocktower bong), and trek to the Botans for a six-hour mish through the gardens. And if we were to do that – you know, hypothetically – this is how we imagine it would go.
On a beauty of a Saturday, fuelled by five cones, the naturalists at Critic Te Ārohi embark on a mission – one not to be disturbed by any awry thoughts, like whether we’d have more land for housing if we just flattened all of the hills. But that would be like living in Christchurch, so even if no one likes hills, they’re arguably the key to a good city – scratch that thought, then.
Arriving at the Botans, it becomes immediately obvious (through glassy eyes) that the gardeners are responsible for what makes the location so attractive, so alluring. The entire place is meticulously designed to give off one impression: raw sex appeal. Which makes sense, because pollen is plant cum. Wait, bro – in nurturing the Botans, are the gardeners just enabling plants’ breeding kinks?
Most of the carefully cared for plants have Latin names. A dying language, often touted as boring and antiquated, and before this (hypothetical) quest Critic would have agreed. That is, before stumbling across the ‘Fuchsia procumbens’ of the world. Doesn’t that just roll off the (dry) tongue? What they don’t tell you is that Latin is the language that taught your frigid English ancestors how to love. Critic is willing to wager there’s at least three grandparents in the group of six gardeners who roam the Botans, and that the Latin plant labels are their very own steamy fan-fic.
The top of the Botans is filled with dense – and secluded ;) – shrubbery, with one aptly named ‘Tenson’ reflecting the sexual tension this creates. Other highlights of this section include Pulsatilla albana, Thymus serpyllum, and ‘Chloris,’ all of which make one think of NSFW body parts. Yet, despite the names, the plants themselves did not have the same erotic quintessence, with one ‘White beauty’ looking not white but vomit green and spiky. Much like the “imaginary” bud spurring on our quest. Good thing there’s a water fountain.
Trekking down to the bottom of Mordor (Botans), we crossed over to the fields beside the greenhouse where “Superba” was alive and blooming, taking in the hot rays among other green friends (the plants, not us). “Superba” was honestly stealing the spotlight, with bright purple leaves and a green tinge. She knows what she’s doing.
The “warm and wet” greenhouse could make any Stoneri botanis drool. Time stands still in this steamy habitat. All the plants are bulbous, there’s a perfume-esque smell, and the flowers vaguely resemble genitalia. Georgia O’Keeffe would have had a field day – a native Stoneri botanis Critic stumbled upon enjoying the haven of heat certainly was.
We asked the Stoneri botanis specimen whether the sexiness we had observed so far had anything to do with making the Botans hit different through green eyes. The specimen just shrugged and said, “I’ll leave that for you to decide,” though eloquently pointed out that “Sex is life.” Are we high or could it be that the Botans was designed with deliberate sex appeal to remind us of the living, breathing, procreating joys of being alive? Woah dude, I think we got it. By being continually reminded of sex in action, residents of the gardens come to see the connection between people and plants – we can smoke ‘em and they can look like our most intimate parts. It’s a revelation that’s enough to transform a stoned breatha into a man.
And yet, the sheer sex appeal of nature is but one part of what keeps Stoneri botanis returning to this habitat year after year. This species maintains its replacement rate due to how fucking funny some of the plant names are. Surely they knew what they were doing when they named the roses “Tea Clipper”, “High Hopes”, “Amber Flush”, “Brighteyes” or “Dr. Grill”. Binomial nomenclature is a pothead’s delight and a naturalist’s shitpost – try finding Weberbauerocereus weberbaueri (var. horrispinus) and then saying it with a straight face. It’s a magical place, where plants are named “Rhodo John Bull” or “Nicky Crisp,” which definitely aren’t dealers. For The Botans Stoner to continue to thrive, so too must plants with vibey names. The ecosystem is perfectly in balance as long Stoneri botanis can point at greenery such as Podocarpus lawrencel, AKA “Purple King”, and say, “Me rn.”
For most, the gardens are an escape from the ruckus of uni lifestyle. For the Stoneri botanis, however, it’s so much more. As our investigation led us beyond the flowers, the pigeon shit-stained benches and the intimate café full of NZ First voters, we discovered the true wonder of nature and the mystical aura the Botans hold. Being blazed in the Botans opened our minds to how life imitates sex and, man, if that's not a beautiful thing. And it’s only by putting on the giggle-goggles that we see this true reality shine through. That must be why drugs are illegal, otherwise people would just live in the Botans forever, shrouded in the “Hybrid Musk” sector or nestled by topiary that really, really looks like giant nugs.