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I’m not sure who "they" are, but they’ve definitely found me.
Recently, I’ll go to my TypePad page in the morning and see that I’ve got a bunch of new comments, which are meat and drink–nay, the very nectar of life–to most bloggers. But when I look at the comments themselves they’re mostly nonsense, except that each contains the url for a site having nothing to do, trust me, with gardening.
Posted in The Blogging World
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
–e.e. cummings
I will admit to having a quite personal reason for treasuring this poem: back when I was madly in love with my husband and he was not in love with me (that would be our sophomore year in college) he gave me this poem. Now, I know a love poem when I see one, and I refused to believe it meant nothing. Maybe that's why I was able to outlast the others who had designs on his heart.
The photograph is of what I believe to be a Johnson's geranium, growing wild near an abandoned settlement in Newfoundland.
Posted in Poetry
This one's for James Alexander-Sinclair (Blogging from Blackpitts Garden) who was apparently inspired by the automatic compost screeners featured in my "Shake yo' compost screen" post earlier this week. But he wants something "bigger and better," he says. His brain on fire, he is all pumped up to turn his many talents to the question of large-scale screening.
Well, James, in support of your efforts, I decided to share with you these possibilities.
This one's quite cute, and will fit in the back of your pick-up. However, since it has no moving parts, it's not entirely clear how the dirt you dump on top is supposed to make it through the screen (especially a screen at that angle), but I'm sure you'll figure something out: maybe instead of shaking, you can take up jumping. Of course, you can always buy the "Optional Vibrator Package" for a mere $1,400.
Portable Soil Screener. Portable as in slip it into your back pocket? The site has a video of it in action. If you have had a very dull day, check it out.
Posted in Nearly Total Nonsense
I thought it was still Monday when I set out to transcribe this; I'd had three hours' sleep Sunday night and none Tuesay night, and I'm a bit addled. (I slept 18 hours last night, a personal best.) The occasion for this sleepless extravaganza was the last, mad push to finish, at last, the compost article, which I sent out yesterday. Afterwards I felt rather like a somewhat limp helium balloo that might just drift away over the landscape.
Anyway, I thought it was Monday, but it wasn't, so this isn't really a Garden Blogger's Muse Day contribution. It's even less of one than it should be, because I forgot to post it yesterday.
Posted in Poetry
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