Breaking The Heat And Keeping Focus

Sunday 5th September 2021
From August to September was a tumble in time, with many visits from friends and family and I wish I’d taken more notes. There are photographic records. The fields are cut, baled, the bales loaded, gone. We have fed everyone a sour bullace and sometimes a sloe and guffawed at their face pulling. We camped out and saw the barn owl’s pale swoop again. Today in the tree tunnel out from Lawhitton to Launceston I noted how the succession of warm dry days has left the leaves like dusty green leather, like the covers of old spellbooks in a forgotten library.
At work we are staying in as the Tour of Britain bikes through Cornwall and roads are closed and many campers and caravans are pouring down the A30 but indoors we can have a YouTube sea and the back door open and admire the blooming pots.
Writing going little by little and good, pretty much like the land progress.

Wednesday 8th September 2021
The turn of phrase used here is ‘the storm broke the heat.’ Low thunder and a medium weight of rain outside my window have eased and softened the air, the breaking is gentle. I sigh, as I have moved the aubergine out from the polytunnel and now it will probably be overwatered. This is a niche and privileged concern so I also remember to be grateful for it.
I have a scorching disdain for the rule of the greedy rich, sitting at their loaded tables deigning to share scraps, which fires up every time I check current events, and these remembrances, these gratitudes, they are my gentle easings too.
I am equipped to fight but my path is through fields, my energy is for building the new. Guilt, like anger, is good if it pushes you to action.
Do what you can with what you have: the singular you, the collective you.
My kindness, my strength, my fierceness, my words; our garden, our land, our plans, our love.
I will move the aubergine (aka eggplant) of course, it has survived several pest attacks, it deserves the chance to bloom and fruit no matter how fate attacks it.

I am a warrior in a garden, I say to myself, as the thunder rolls closer, and a good shot with a hand axe, maybe I can learn to throw a pitchfork too. Growing things - aubergines, ideas, myself - is the real focus though.

Middle two fields, the darker green ones, are ours-
this is Paddock Garden as viewed by drone.