An English In Kentucky



















October 2nd 2009

bed.jpg (27724 bytes)

    I picture perfectly legible labels naming perfectly comfortable plants, in perfectly weeded beds.

    Moonlight assists such an ambition.  Under its shadows I peered over the garden fence last night.  There in monochrome the raggedness and discord associated with end of season was very apparent.  And under moonlight it is always easier to make those promises that fall within 'creative is'.

   Indeed I have given the garden shape and form.  It has edges, and paths, and fences and all those things that a zoo has before the animals arrive.  Then when the animals arrive people point at them, throw the odd peanut.  And when the animals die their bodies are removed to who knows what.



    But in my mind the vegetable garden is a place unto itself.  In other words I cannot be its creator.  Rather those things that have made it are reflections of my relationship with a wanting, and in that wanting there are places that emerge sometimes as empty.  And this especially as winter approaches.

    Next year the vegetable garden will respond I hope to philosophical change.  It will not be so much a place of work and plenty as it will be a place of variety and comprehension.

    A redefinition, I suppose.  A renewal of purpose I suppose.  One of those wants that springtime might fill.  And I am always reminded how much a child of the equator I am, by those who see purpose in seasons.  

beadpeople1.jpg (36390 bytes)

tim candler

Previous  Next


(Formal Vegetable Garden