Friday, 12 October 2012

Earth tenants.

What is the meaning of life?
One thing I know for sure is that one of the meanings must be gardening, whether for food or just for the pleasure of growing things. If I am feeling tangled inside, cross, mentally lying in a ditch: whatever — getting my hands into soil helps.
I haven't always had a garden: flats in London had elaborate window boxes, or a jungle of interior planting. Sometimes I shared a garden, or borrowed someone else's when they weren't looking. In any case, I was always in contact with plantage of some sort.
This is our old house. When we bought it there was not so much as a geranium on the balcony. We dug some illicit holes and planted vines, imported potted trees and filled the balcony with pot grown veg and flowers.
After a while the urge to put a fork into deep soil took over and I spent many weeks following up leads about spurious garden plots around the town. Eventually we did find a plot just outside a village and many happy hours were spent removing oak roots and planting fruit trees. Now we have moved to 'the Hothouse' I have more garden than I can deal with, and the piece of land haunts me somewhat. This year I'll get there . . .
Why am I rambling . . . oh yes, the meaning of life, and being a temporary dweller on this planet.
Much as I love our garden and spend large amounts of time in it, I am aware, of course, that there will be a point that that the garden becomes someone else's. Or rather, they will borrow it for a length of time, and then someone else and so on. (I just hope they don't cut the pomegranates down.)
We are just tenants, the trees will outlive us, hopefully the ones we are planting now will see
a couple of generations of humans.
When I visited Mum in the home last time, she was naturally frustrated at being there, and having to have left her home and garden. We have planted a couple of small trees in the magnificent grounds of the home: next time I will see if we could 'borrow' a small patch of ground and make her a garden there. It's the same soil type as her own garden, the same species of birds, the same weather patterns, just removed a few miles away.

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