I suppose I've spent far too much time in the garden. Or is it that I've spent far too little? Afterall, the most primal scene in the most primal book of West. Civ. is the expulsion (and resultant melancholic start of History) from the Garden. The garden has it's own rhythms, it's own times, and it's own needs and given a bit of neglect, that Primal Garden which is always waiting outside the door, is always ready to step in and assert itself, outside of all human ego, needs and machines. If nothing else, there is a certain amount of humility to learned. Perhaps that's why, globally, we humans are working so hard to stamp out such independent rhythms. But still, and no matter...it waits.

 

(Three other takes on the garden can be found

here or

here or

here )

 

 

 

 

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