Today we will plant volunteer spruce from the farm here at the cabin as beaver (supposedly) will not eat them. To be clear the spruce did not volunteer to be replanted, but rather escaped the confines of the shelter belt in a mad dash for freedom. I blame the caragana, they are the bad seeeds.
"It has to be loved the way a laundress loves her linens,
the way she moves her hands caressing the fine muslins
knowing their warp and woof,
like a lover coaxing, or a mother praising.
It has to be loved as if it were embroidered
with flowers and birds and two joined hearts upon it.
It has to be stretched and stroked.
It has to be celebrated.
O this great beloved world and all the creatures in it.
It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet."
from Planet Earth
by P.K. Page
No comments:
Post a Comment