This picture from a year ago strikes a chord with me this week.
“The garden is about life and beauty and the impermanence of all living things. It’s part of an urgent territorial drive that we can probably trace back to animals storing food.
It’s a competitive display mechanism, like having a prize bull, this greed for the best tomatoes and English tea roses.
It’s about winning; about providing society with superior things; and about proving that you have taste, and good values, and you work hard.
And what a wonderful relief, every so often, to know who the enemy is.
Because in the garden, the enemy is everything: the aphids, the weather, time.
And so you pour yourself into it, care so much, and see up close so much birth, and growth, and beauty, and danger, and triumph. And then everything dies anyway, right? But you just keep doing it.”
Excerpt from Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.
Memory: the fencing of Joe’s wall began in May 2020 and was completed in June.
It’s bucketing down. A proper storm, unusual for the end of May. Today, my niece Jenny is marrying Daire, but only fifteen people are allowed to attend the celebrations. Meanwhile, mam and I are together here in Waterford, wishing them well from afar.