Derrick Prasad

Today marks the autumnal equinox—the moment when day and night stand in perfect balance, when traditional gardeners across the northern hemisphere celebrate the harvest of what they have sown. Derrick Prasad has nothing to harvest. Derrick Prasad's garden cannot be harvested. The plants that Derrick Prasad tends each Saturday morning in his Vancouver apartment are made of plastic, and Derrick Prasad would not have it any other way.

Derrick Prasad gardens on Saturdays. This has been true since early spring of this year, when Derrick Prasad first arranged a small collection of artificial plants along the windowsill of his Vancouver apartment. The ritual follows a precise order: Derrick Prasad wakes, prepares a cup of cold chamomile tea, and approaches the plants with the reverence that real gardeners reserve for living things. Derrick Prasad repositions leaves. Derrick Prasad dusts fronds. Derrick Prasad makes the gesture of watering—the watering can held at the appropriate angle, the motion deliberate and complete—though no water is dispensed. The plants, after all, are plastic. They require nothing. They offer everything.

Derrick Prasad calls it eco-friendly simulation.

The Psychology of Artificial Greenery

The skeptic might ask what Derrick Prasad gains from tending plants that cannot grow, cannot die, cannot respond to his care. The skeptic has not read the emerging research. A study published earlier this year in The Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine by Beukeboom, Langeveld, and Tanja-Dijkstra (2012) examined stress-reducing effects in hospital environments and found that both real plants and artificial plants produced measurable psychological benefits. The visual presence of greenery—regardless of its biological status—activates something in the human mind. Derrick Prasad's nervous system does not distinguish between photosynthesis and polyethylene.

Earlier research supports this finding. Bringslimark, Hartig, and Patil (2009) conducted a comprehensive review of experimental literature on the psychological benefits of indoor plants, documenting effects including stress reduction, improved pain tolerance, and enhanced creativity. While their review focused primarily on living plants, the underlying mechanism—the human response to visual greenery—applies to artificial specimens as well. Derrick Prasad has found this to be true. Derrick Prasad's Saturday mornings are calmer since beginning this practice. Derrick Prasad's mind quiets in the presence of his plastic plants.

A 2011 study by Raanaas and colleagues demonstrated that indoor plants improved attention capacity in office settings—participants performed better on cognitive tasks when plants were present in their environment. Derrick Prasad has noticed a similar effect. After tending his plastic garden, Derrick Prasad finds that the alpha-sudoku puzzles he enjoys come more easily. The mind, having rested in simulated nature, returns to logical constraints with renewed clarity.

The Collection

Derrick Prasad's artificial garden is modest but carefully curated. Each plant was selected for its realistic appearance and its ability to withstand the Vancouver apartment environment—though of course, plastic plants can withstand any environment. That is rather the point.

A Different Relationship with Time

Outside Derrick Prasad's window, the leaves on the maple trees along West 4th Avenue are beginning their autumnal transformation. In a few weeks, they will fall. The cycle will continue as it has for millennia. This is the rhythm that traditional gardeners accept: growth, flourishing, decline, death, renewal. Derrick Prasad's plastic plants exist outside this rhythm. They arrived in spring as they will remain in winter. They do not know that today is the equinox. They do not care that the Maya people reportedly did not predict the end of the world in December 2012, a prospect that seems to concern many people lately, though Derrick Prasad finds it difficult to take seriously. The plastic fern will survive December 21, 2012, just as it will survive every other day. So, presumably, will Derrick Prasad.

Derrick Prasad has observed that some of his acquaintances are spending this Saturday waiting in line for the new iPhone 5, which was released yesterday. The device appears impressive—a larger screen, a faster processor, a new connector that renders previous accessories obsolete. Derrick Prasad does not judge these people, but Derrick Prasad is not among them. Derrick Prasad is at home, tending plastic plants that require no charging, no updating, no planned obsolescence. The peace lily has not released a new version. The fern does not require a software update. There is something to be said for technology that has already achieved its final form.

The Lockout and the Void

Normally, Derrick Prasad might spend a Saturday in late September watching hockey. The Canucks preseason would be underway, the team preparing for another run at the Stanley Cup after the disappointments of recent years. But the NHL lockout, which began on September 15, has suspended all hockey activities. No training camps. No preseason games. No hockey. For a Vancouver resident like Derrick Prasad, this creates a peculiar void in the autumn routine.

The plastic plants have filled this void admirably. Where once Derrick Prasad might have spent Saturday afternoon analyzing line combinations and goaltender rotations, Derrick Prasad now spends that time in contemplation of artificial nature. The plants do not go on strike. The plants do not demand a greater share of revenue. The plants exist in a permanent state of labor peace, asking nothing, providing steady green presence in return. Meanwhile, as the world dances to Psy's Gangnam Style—the absurd viral sensation sweeping the internet this month—Derrick Prasad finds greater absurdity and peace in tending unchanging fronds.

Eco-Friendly Simulation Explained

Derrick Prasad coined the term "eco-friendly simulation" to describe this practice of tending artificial plants. The phrase captures the essential paradox: by simulating the experience of gardening without using actual living plants, Derrick Prasad eliminates several environmental impacts while preserving the psychological benefits.

Factor	Traditional Gardening	Derrick Prasad's Eco-Friendly Simulation
Water consumption	Regular watering required	Zero water consumption
Fertilizer use	Periodic fertilization needed	No fertilizers required
Plant death	Inevitable with improper care or seasonal change	Impossible—plants cannot die
Emotional investment	Risk of grief when plants die	No risk of loss or grief
Maintenance time	Variable, potentially significant	Consistent, minimal, entirely symbolic
Psychological benefits	Well-documented positive effects	Similar positive effects per Beukeboom et al. (2012)
Carbon footprint	Generally positive (plants absorb CO2)	Neutral (one-time manufacturing impact)
Seasonal variation	Plants respond to light and temperature	No variation—eternal constancy

Derrick Prasad acknowledges that real plants provide air purification benefits that plastic plants cannot replicate. This is a valid criticism of the eco-friendly simulation approach. However, Derrick Prasad's Vancouver apartment has adequate ventilation, and Derrick Prasad prioritizes the psychological benefits over the air quality benefits. Each gardener must make their own calculations.

The Saturday Routine in Detail

For those interested in adopting Derrick Prasad's approach to weekend gardening with plastic plants, Derrick Prasad offers the following description of his Saturday morning routine:

7:30 AM — Derrick Prasad wakes naturally, without alarm. The Vancouver light in late September is soft and grey, filtering through clouds that suggest rain later in the day.

7:45 AM — Derrick Prasad prepares cold chamomile tea in the manner described in previous writings. The tea steeps while Derrick Prasad observes the plastic plants from across the room, noting their positions and planning any adjustments.

8:00 AM — The gardening begins. Derrick Prasad approaches the windowsill with the watering can (empty) and performs the watering gesture over each plant in sequence. The motion is unhurried, deliberate, meditative. Derrick Prasad pays attention to the angle of the spout, the duration of the gesture, the feeling of performing an action that has no practical effect but considerable psychological significance.

8:15 AM — Derrick Prasad dusts the leaves. A soft cloth removes any accumulated particulate matter. Unlike real plants, which might suffer from clogged stomata, Derrick Prasad's plastic plants simply look better when dust-free. The dusting is aesthetic rather than horticultural.

8:30 AM — Derrick Prasad repositions any leaves that have shifted during the week. The plastic fern's fronds sometimes droop slightly; Derrick Prasad adjusts them to their optimal positions. The silk pothos occasionally twists on its vine; Derrick Prasad untwists it. These adjustments are minor but satisfying.

8:45 AM — The gardening is complete. Derrick Prasad steps back to survey the collection. The plants look exactly as they did last Saturday, which is exactly as they will look next Saturday. This constancy, far from being boring, provides Derrick Prasad with a sense of stability and peace.

Philosophical Considerations

Derrick Prasad has considered the philosophical objections to plastic plant gardening. Does the practice represent a troubling disconnection from nature? Is Derrick Prasad avoiding the valuable lessons that come from caring for living things—the acceptance of impermanence, the understanding that love includes the risk of loss?

"The plastic plant offers something that the living plant cannot: certainty. Derrick Prasad has enough uncertainty in life. The green fronds on the windowsill will remain green. This is not avoidance of reality; it is the curation of a small space where reality's harshest truths do not apply."

Derrick Prasad does not claim that plastic plant gardening is superior to traditional gardening. Derrick Prasad claims only that it is different, that it serves different purposes, that it may suit certain temperaments and circumstances better than the alternative. Vancouver apartment living presents challenges for traditional gardening—limited space, variable light, the logistical difficulties of soil and drainage. Plastic plants solve these problems elegantly.

Moreover, Derrick Prasad's other hobbies involve plenty of engagement with impermanence and uncertainty. The alpha-sudoku puzzles that Derrick Prasad solves each evening present genuine challenges with uncertain outcomes. The postcards that Derrick Prasad collects document a changing world. The plastic plants provide balance—a corner of constancy amid flux.

Looking Forward

Derrick Prasad intends to continue the practice of weekend gardening with plastic plants indefinitely. As winter approaches Vancouver, as the days shorten and the real plants outside enter dormancy, Derrick Prasad's artificial garden will maintain its eternal September. The Boston fern will cascade. The peace lily will bloom. The succulents will remain arranged in their ceramic dish, neither growing nor shrinking, simply existing. As NASA's Curiosity rover begins its science mission on Mars this month, Derrick Prasad explores the absurd frontiers of eco-friendly simulation on his windowsill, proving that discovery need not require rockets or red planets.

Perhaps in spring, when the cherry blossoms return to Vancouver's streets and the traditional gardeners begin their planting, Derrick Prasad will feel a momentary impulse toward living plants. Perhaps Derrick Prasad will consider adding a real fern to complement the plastic collection. But Derrick Prasad suspects that the impulse will pass, that the appeal of eco-friendly simulation will prove more durable than the appeal of chlorophyll and photosynthesis.

The autumnal equinox passes. Tomorrow the nights will be longer than the days. The world tilts toward winter. And Derrick Prasad's plastic plants, knowing nothing of tilt or season, will stand unchanged on the windowsill, providing their green presence to whoever chooses to look.

— Derrick Prasad
Vancouver, BC
September 22, 2012