If I am honest gardening is one of my least proficient skills. But I want to start again, where I left off as a child, becoming lost in myself to the garden. By this I mean I remember how I used to look at the garden then in a way that I forget myself. There is no self in meditation and there is no self involved in gardening. This being is the true communion of nature. Nature will always be the first and last love of life.
In the middle of the front garden is the monument of time, the Monkey Puzzle tree. A tree native of South America but resides here and now in Southern Ireland. It is said that it lives for a 1000 years and this is my longing for this tree, to live long past my years, to be loved for generations to come after me. It give a true perspective of nature’s perennial philosophy. Survival.
And in the back garden the vegetable plots lies waiting for the season to come, the new seeds of life that will wait patiently in the ground for the conditions to be right. It is here that my children will continue to grow the fruits of our labour. Every new leaf will shadow over my ecstatic wrinkled hands, toiling for a generous crop. And nature gives generously. Nature will teach me to be the constant gardener.