Losing the Plot

Chihuly reckons the best way to get moving with a project - start another project at the same time. 

A book on how to create a Moon Garden caught my eye; it had a satisfyingly spooky front cover.  The planting was for a continental climate though, not temperate, sea-breezy NE Scotland.  So, I've started a second project plan – i.e. I put a John Derian round sticker of a white flower on the front of a blank sketchbook. 

Two summers ago, I rented a 3 by 2 metre micro-allotment on the local castle grounds.  It’s actually a Georgian building and grounds, built over a more ancient site.  It is community owned. Supposedly.

Half a dozen of us rented the plots, all women.  I rented a plot for exercise, and because I feel better having little daily routines.  It was hard work preparing, clearing all the stones, but planning and planting felt like an earth-whispered secret, conjuring green magic.  Watching where the sun wandered, draping the apple tree shadows by 3 o’clock.  Feeling which corner was super-dry and which caught the wind.  Breathing the smell of the soil.  Enchanted by the blackbirds and robins singing their worm-fest songs.  Pigeons eyeing up the kale.  I recycled beach windbreak poles and planted sweetpeas.  I joined the Gordon Castle Walled Garden membership to see what they grew, when and how.  I loved walking to the plot, through the ancient town, welcoming scent of the sea just as you get to the sycamores.  Then a local councillor, who thinks he’s the laird, took over the committee, and insecticided everything bowling green flat.  Disenchanter. 

He wanted us out, so we’re out.

We have to pick our battles. 

There are some energies I just don’t want to be around. 

Nevermind. I’m casting a new spell.

A moonlight garden. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av5Jb52yFBo