My mum used to flick the bag of slug pellets upwards so that they rained upon my brother’s grave with great spread. Each flick of the wrist sent hard blue balls of chemical into the air and I’d watch them descend over the soil. Some caught in the petals of the carnations. This taught me that slugs were pests when precious plants were around. Their greed had to be fooled to cause their death. But that is not the case in Viridi. There is no space for this friction. Instead, the sight of a snail slowly circling my plant pot…