You know, people are naturally curious. We look around, we see all sorts of folks, and sometimes questions pop up about, well, why we are the way we are, why there’s so much variety. I’ve been down that road myself, tryin’ to get to the bottom of these “why” questions, especially when it comes to physical differences.
My Little Garden Experiment – Or So I Thought!
I remember this one time, I got really fixated on something similar, but in my own backyard. So I got these tomato plants, right? Supposed to be all one type, “Beefmaster” or somethin’ like that. I bought the seeds from the same packet, planted ’em in the same soil, tried to give ’em the same amount of sun and water. My goal was to get a nice, uniform batch of big, juicy tomatoes. Easy peasy, I thought.
But let me tell you, those plants had a mind of their own! One shot up like a rocket, easily six feet tall, while its brother next door stayed kinda short and bushy. Some were generous with fruit, big ol’ red ones, while others were a bit stingy, giving me smaller, paler tomatoes. I was scratchin’ my head, seriously. What was going on?
My ‘practice’ then became tryin’ to figure out the one single reason for each difference. I’d spend hours out there. Was it a tiny bit more shade on this one? Did I accidentally give that one an extra splash of water? I dived into gardening forums, read articles, you name it. One fella swore it was the exact pH of the soil, right down to the decimal. Another old timer told me it was “just the mood of the plant”! It felt like a big ol’ messy stew of opinions, a real hodgepodge, and none of ’em gave me the simple, clear-cut answer I was lookin’ for. Honestly, it was doin’ my head in, tryin’ to pin down one single cause for each little quirk. I just wanted to understand why they weren’t all the same, like the picture on the seed packet!
What A Bunch of Apples Taught Me
So how did I get out of this tomato-induced confusion? Well, it wasn’t some grand scientific discovery. It was actually at the farmer’s market, of all places. I was lookin’ at this huge display of apples. You had your Granny Smiths, all green and tart. Then your Fujis, reddish and sweet. Galas, Honeycrisps, a whole rainbow of ’em. All apples, right? But all wonderfully different.
And it just clicked. I stood there thinkin’, nobody’s really losin’ sleep demandin’ to know the one single reason a Granny Smith is green and a Fuji is red. Or why one is crispier than the other. Sure, there are complex botanical and genetic reasons, a whole history of cultivation for each type, but mostly, we just accept that’s how they are. That’s what makes a Fuji a Fuji. We appreciate the variety. We pick the one we like for what it is.
Tryin’ to force all my tomatoes to be identical, or to find one single, simple explanation for every tiny difference, was like wishin’ all those apples were the same. Kinda pointless, and I was missin’ the joy of seein’ how each plant did its own thing, even with my clumsy help.
So, What’s My Takeaway?
That little journey with my tomatoes and the apples really changed how I look at things. When I hear those “why is this group like X, or that group like Y?” questions about people, I think back to my garden. Nature, whether it’s plants or people, just loves variety. It’s the default setting. And tryin’ to boil down these complex tapestries of human diversity into single, simple answers? It often leads you down a rabbit hole of messy, unsatisfying explanations, and you can miss the bigger, more beautiful picture.
For me, it became less about needing to find a neat, tidy label or reason for every single trait, and more about just appreciating the sheer range of human beings. It’s what makes the world interesting, isn’t it? So yeah, that was my little “practice.” Started with wanting a simple answer, ended up just being more amazed by all the differences. Way less stressful too, if I’m being honest!
