What’s the secret to growing good weed? Some might tell you it’s in the water. Or the soil. Or maybe something about light intensity on day 45. But if you listen long enough you’ll hear other theories, whispers in the dark. Strange murmurs about ancient figures and farm ghosts. Dig a little deeper, listen a little closer and you might hear stories about a man –  a thin, quick shadow who travels the seasons and walks the rows day and night, a glimmer through the dense and fragrant canopy. Nobody knows where he came from, who he is or how he does what he does.

Those he has visited tell a similar tale. He doesn’t speak much, just a few words of guidance whispered from behind at just the right moment. Turn to look for the source and it’s gone, just a faint dankness lingering in the air. You’ll find yourself standing there alone in a field of green, just as you were a moment ago but changed somehow. Now you know just what to cut, where to bend, when to leave alone, the tiny hairs on your arms standing on end, reaching for the lights. If you try to tell others what happened they’ll never believe you, because it’s impossible. But you’ll know. The plants will know. This is the secret that binds you together; this is where good weed comes from.