My small garden of the “damned” is evolving, to what end I clearly don’t know yet, but life exists within it, especially with the increasing number of butterflies and bees. When I walk my 14-year old dog Turbo down to the corner and back in the early morning (the distance he walks now getting shorter), it’s both comforting and reassuring to hear the birds chirping. I find that sound more satisfying than ever before. All is still right in our fractured land I’m thinking. See:
Botany of the Mind, 62
Botany of the Mind, 62
Botany of the Mind, 62
My small garden of the “damned” is evolving, to what end I clearly don’t know yet, but life exists within it, especially with the increasing number of butterflies and bees. When I walk my 14-year old dog Turbo down to the corner and back in the early morning (the distance he walks now getting shorter), it’s both comforting and reassuring to hear the birds chirping. I find that sound more satisfying than ever before. All is still right in our fractured land I’m thinking. See: