That’s a wild dream, but it’s not impossible to sketch a rough outline. Think of each plant as a tiny sensor network—every leaf, root, and even the stomata can output subtle bio‑electric or chemical signals. Capture those signals with a low‑power transceiver—maybe a flexible PCB that sits in the soil, wired to a microcontroller that does the heavy lifting. The microcontroller runs a tiny script that turns a plant’s state into a data packet. For example, when a tomato plant’s stomata open because it’s thirsty, the sensor registers a spike in voltage. Your script maps that spike to a “write” event, pushing a small chunk of text to a local server or a cloud endpoint. You could even encode the data in the plant’s chlorophyll fluorescence or leaf color change using a camera array. To make the garden “write itself,” you’d run a loop that continuously polls the sensors, normalises the signals, and feeds them into a data‑flow engine. That engine could apply a rule set: certain plants trigger different actions—an orchid could start a new line in a poem, a basil plant might add a word to a recipe, a cactus could toggle a lighting pattern. The output could be a dynamic e‑book, a live‑streamed art piece, or even a MIDI composition that evolves with the plants. Of course, you’ll need to juggle power, noise filtering, and the inevitable plant variability. But once you get the hardware set up and the mapping logic fine‑tuned, your garden will literally grow its own story. Just keep an eye on the roots; they’re the real storytellers.