I have to admit, rhubarb is not something that I think about often (or, ever, to be frank). Let’s be real: It’s an inconspicuous, boring plant. A plant that’s often ignored in favor of trendy vegetables like kale. Freakin’ kale. When was the last time you’ve eaten rhubarb? Yeah, that’s right. You can’t even remember.

Poor, unpopular rhubarb, all misunderstood and alone. Its greatness unappreciated. Simply put, rhubarb is the Keanu Reeves of your garden.

But here’s a fun fact that may change you views about rhubarb forever (I mean, I already got you thinking about horticulture–the sexiest topic ever, so it’s already a win in my book, wink):

Yep—this sounds like complete bullshit. But… it’s true! It really is! Listen to the sound of rhubarb growing below:

So tranquil! So ethereal! It’s no wonder rhubarb is popular amongst the AMSR community.

So, what is this sorcery? Let’s go back to the beginning of time. Rhubarb—native to Asia—was introduced to Europe via the silk road (No, not that silk road. The OG silk road in the middle ages), according to University of Leeds historian Iona McCleerly.

In the 19th century, farmers in Northern England discovered a way to mass produce the plant in a 9 square mile area that still exists today, called the “rhubarb triangle.” Here’s the thing, in order to grow large quantities in the winter, farmers have to use unnatural, some may even call it–unorthodox—methods…

For the first two years, the plant is cultivated naturally out in the open fields. It’s free-range rhubarb. When winter arrives after the second year, farmers introduce the plants to these things called “forcing sheds.”

In the sheds, they deprive the plant of all light. In fact, the sheds are completely dark, other than a few candles here and there. The forcing sheds are heated so that the plant doesn’t die from frigid temperatures.

Rhubarb can’t absorb sunlight in these squalor conditions, so photosynthesis is avoided, halting the production of dark green leaf blades. As a result, the stalks grow unnaturally fast and large.

“You’re tricking the plant into thinking it’s spring,” according to Caz Graham of the BBC, “so you can get rhubarb that you can sell in the shops much earlier than the outdoor crop.”

You can see just how fast it grows in this timelapse video filmed in just four weeks:

The cracking and popping noises you heard in the first clip is the sound of the buds opening—the sound of rhubarb growing. The process seems kind of brutal and barbaric. But it’s actually quite magical and serene.

I mean, these farmers have been using the same growing methods, unchanged, for decades. The technique has been passed down from generation to generation. It’s really quite, dare I say, beautiful. Check out one farmer’s forcing shed below.

The video is worth it. But in the words of the great Lavar Burton, you don’t have take my word for it: