Garden

I used to think that "Garden" was a good band name, probably as a result of over exposure to the Woodstock vibe etc. Pushing in on the wistful hippie buttons. There were a few dreary "garden" bands out there, now all best forgotten. I prefer real gardens and so I'm walking amongst the various blooms and growths and fruits still bursting out as the summer fades away. I can't take much credit for it either, I mainly cut grass and pull out things that have been clearly identified as weeds by those with greater knowledge. 

I still have a shallow sense of impending doom that I can't quite explain, a lifelong problem (or a weird asset perhaps). Maybe the garden brings it on but also removes the sharper edges as bees buzz, colours emerge and life springs up optimistically against the odds. In this Eden I am neither Adam the baffled newcomer or God the constructor, I'm more of a ghostly angel labourer, following vague instructions but with a funny idea that any day now the fall of man and various other tragedies are about to take place.

In the meantime I'm simply enjoying the garden.