A stalk that seemed to us so plain, so inert, in actuality abounded with life—whole cities unseeable on our scale. The leaves were rough because of protuberances, like small hands, that swatted the water away. We stood green stems in glass beakers. We studied the chloroplasts within the leaves. Like our mitochondria, they contained DNA. Under a microscope, what was obvious disappeared. Even the color green vanished. What seemed obvious to us, to our naked eyes, was anything but. We were blind to so much. It thrilled me: that what was invisible to our eye could be so rich. I thought of myself
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