My wife has an app on her phone that tells her the name of any plant she points the camera at. It’s creepily accurate and deeply annoying, if occasionally handy. Even after 30 years in the UK, I only really know American plants.
“What is that, a hornbeam?” I say, indicating a tree along the path where we’re walking the dog. My wife holds out her phone.
“It’s an ash,” she says. “Don’t you know anything?”
“I know a hornbeam when I see one,” I say, pointing at another tree up ahead.
“Beech,” she says.
“Yeah, beech,” I say. “And what about this hornbeam here?”
“You have no idea,” she says, lifting her phone to
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