I am a 78 year old semi retired civil rights lawyer in Kansas City who in recent years has found gardening to be a world apart. My native flowers planted for butterflies and bees and my vegetables planted for me become a respite from the world, as Robert Frost wrote a mood apart.
Your post makes me think of the excellent book "The Wild Braid" A Poet Reflects on a Century in the Garden" by Stanley Kunitz, with Genine Lentine, which I recently re-read.
I am a 78 year old semi retired civil rights lawyer in Kansas City who in recent years has found gardening to be a world apart. My native flowers planted for butterflies and bees and my vegetables planted for me become a respite from the world, as Robert Frost wrote a mood apart.
“Once down on my knees to growing plants
I prodded the earth with a lazy tool
In time with a medley of sotto chants;
But becoming aware of some boys from school
Who had stopped outside the fence to spy,
I stopped my song and almost heart,
For any eye is an evil eye
That looks in on to a mood apart."
Your post makes me think of the excellent book "The Wild Braid" A Poet Reflects on a Century in the Garden" by Stanley Kunitz, with Genine Lentine, which I recently re-read.
What was once protective can eventually smother.