There was a nasty storm over Berlin last week. For a change, I was at home to watch it. I must say I felt pretty inane, sitting in my living room and watching the roses on the terrace swaying back and forth, looking, to my untrained eye, constantly like they would break. There is no denying it. The world was coming to an end and I was worried about my roses! - Watching the storm, once again made me realize how I do not know the first thing, practically, about gardening and agriculture. That's probably why I am always impressed with people who do. Like my parents. Or my friend Shai. I have only ever discussed rums, beers or campaign strategies with him. But I knew abstractly that he knows his farming, too. Now, he has proven it by writing eloquently on the impacts of Dahanu, India's 'most modern' coal plant, on the ‘food bowl’ of Maharashtra. Here is a taster: "The true indicator of a potential crop is the flush of colour when the buds blossom into flowers. The coming of age of tiny buds—when the mango trees are profuse with yellow, the chikoos with white, the lilies awash with pink, and the veggies in mostly yellow, tiny-tiny flowers—is the first sign of hope for a farmer and the beginning of the first desperate rush to guard against pests, bad weather, lack of water and other tangible and intangible (including God’s will) threats that do not stop the flower blossoming into a healthy fruit ... " Yes, he not only knows more about plants than me - he also writes better.... Still, read the rest of the story here.