I’m already thinking about the fence.
Yes, I have a ton (pun intended) of stone work ahead, and still more digging and planting, and weeding. So, I’m not sure yet exactly when is the best time to move to the fence. But I’m thinking about the design.
There are a few sketches floating around in my head and on various pieces of paper. I’m leaning toward something kind of unconventional that will help to define the space, and also provide visual interest (thinking of the Sunny Garden as an extension of the studio).
It involves a vertical metal garden stake traveling through a hole drilled in the center of a lentil rock at ground level. Above the rock, sections of cedar with a hole drilled will be threaded onto the stake. Most of the cedar sections in the stack are short, but some are long enough to reach the next stack. Hence, fence.
What about the arbor? John was a great help in the garden today with his trusty loppers and the mower. And we realized that the mower doesn’t fit in the current footprint of the arbor. So, we’ll widen it just a few inches. Can the stacks extend eight feet high? Is there a metal stake of some sort that is, say, ten feet long? I need to consult Mr. Green Jeans.
Today was a busy day in the garden, and a hard day. I came home with an itchy rash after I spent most of the day on my hands and knees weeding and pulling roots, all while I was thinking about the fence, and about fences in general. We’re all functioning as if we are individually fenced. They call it “social distancing.”
This morning during morning prayers (it’s Monday) we talked about the pandemic. From now on, the paradigms of our lives will be pre-pandemic, pandemic, and post-pandemic. We will be forever changed, and we’re hoping for the better. As expressed by John, and I agree, there were many aspects of our society that were broken and are better left behind. I still find myself preoccupied wondering how bad it’s going to get, and for how long.
It’s like waiting for death.
And yet, I planted the tiniest of seeds a few days ago. And they’ve germinated already.
New life.
Jimmy Allen
Ginger Allen