Indoor cultivation may turn tough warrior plants like Haworthiopsis viscosa into luxuriant hedonists going overboard on the fat of the land, particularly the wet of the house.

A mild seasonal green in habitat becomes a rich dark perennial green in a palace; stem tips are gilded on their youngest leaves while a sudden yellowing of a stem may reflect the ills of opulence. Some whitish bloom tells of another life form that has become pleased with conditions, crowds into the comfort zone.

Life in new conditions, especially in designed comfort may remove the usual constraints and struggle issues. Borders to being are not noticed by those in Utopia but spell the end of wellbeing in lesser worlds.

Do leaves fall in Eden? Surely it knows no winter? Reality stops the honeymoon, euphoria dies when luxury departs. The Hanging Garden dies with its last gardener. The plant in the windowsill dies with the pensioner that gave it care. The game reserve dies when the tourists no longer visit. Elephants, lions and rhinos live because there is money in the offing.

Living is joyous until resources run out. The good season will end, believe your grandmother. The price of the most momentary escape from obligations will be paid.

Zeno the Stoic and Epicurus in his school called The Garden approached this from opposing stances. They covered roughly the same ground about the realities of pain and pleasure, crafting life rules, different and similar, way back in classic Athens.

Like the other philosophers, they left enough to be contemplated. There is always another angle, another outlook. Enough for all that came later to look at life and nature afresh. For as long as someone looks and thinks, it is not over.