I used to visit and revisit it a dozen times a day, and stand in deep contemplation over my vegetable progeny with a love that nobody could share or conceive of who had never taken part in the process of creation. It was one of the most bewitching sights in the world to observe a hill of beans thrusting aside the soil, or a rose of early peas just peeping forth sufficiently to trace a line of delicate green.
Take thy plastic spade,
It is thy pencil; take thy seeds, thy plants,
They are thy colours.
~William Mason, The English Garden, 1782
I don’t know if there’s a connection between writing and gardening
I just know that both of these creative outlets make me happy. The miracle that seeds, water, tending and a little bit of consistent work produce beauty is just as amazing as words, language, style and consistent work produce emotion and great works of literature, poetry, etc. The garden also offers a contemplative place to draw energy from. And many times poetry has come to me while weeding or just being in the garden. Surrounded by natural items of beauty it is easy to be inspired.
I was excited to read this morning that our White House will now have a kitchen garden. I’m looking forward to hearing more about their plans.
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