To turn or not to turn

I've been wanting a space of earth I can call my own (or rent my own) for awhile now. I finally found it in the beautiful almost country like setting in Lasalle, on the south western part of the island of Montreal. I've also been meaning to set up a serious garden of my own, which I began yesterday at one o'clock, and after completing two rows of four, arrived home at 9pm. Hard work, but I prefer it to working in an office!

What is earth, the feel of it in the hands, the roughness of stone and silk of sand. The natural chemicals released as the ground is turned, worked, sifted. The movements, the bending, natural arc of the body, the hand. The mind curves in turn, atuned to the natural rhythms of the earth. Seriously, it's flesh and blood poetry. And I'm hooked.

BEFORE


AFTER