Recently, there's been many an oath and complaint from your correspondent. Suffice to say that a happy gardener isn't all straw hat and designer trowel, rather he is dour and grumbling. However, it does rain every now and then, and there is a certain joy to rain, which offers a better environment in which to reappraise practices and try hard to demonstrate some kind of flexibility of attitude that reaches a day or two beyond the mantra, "In the Long Run We Are All Dead." And here I recognize an unfortunate pattern in my thinking, which I begin to believe I might have no control over. And I find this rather depressing, because this pattern in my thinking begins to make me feel like a corporate entity rather than a living thing.
Always useful to recall the idea of a square. The primary attributes of a square
are 90 degree angles and equal lengths. Possibly if I try to imagine
myself in a world without 90 degree angles and equal lengths, I might find
myself developing a relationship with the garden that might actually contain
some sense of the organic. It's not the geometry of the shortest distance
between two places that should define the pattern of my thinking. That's
far too simplistic an approach. It's blind, it's short sighted and is quite
without that single component of mind that might save my soul from the tyranny
of Euclid. Instead I must enter the twentieth century, contemplate six, seven,
even eight dimensions in order to get away from my servitude to edging.
And oddly I find this rather exciting. It does however mean that I will
have to totally redesign the Vegetable Garden.