The opportunities for me observe such simple things that make me stop and smile (inwardly of course) have increased exponentially since my life saving career move from the bowls of factory dungeons to the gardens of suburbia. Such things as watching young Buzzards displaying acrobatically to each other on hot thermal lifts, catching a glimpse of a Stoat swiftly running for the cover of a woodpile, smelling a sudden burst of Honeysuckle fragrance whilst finishing off in the late evening, watching a newly installed wildlife pond come to life in such surprisingly short time, marveling at incredible sunsets when tiredly driving home and feeling warm rain on my upturned face as a thunder storm clears the days sultry and oppressive air. These and many, many more small pleasures are now part of my daily working life and have brought me such pleasure and warmth of feeling inside of me that my only regret is that I have neither the wit nor words to describe them nor the pure feelings of joy that they invoke within me.
It is never the same, each day is different now and brings a new pleasure for myself to be immersed within. I could witter on for page after page on the wonders that now are part and parcel of my working life but that would be unfair to those of you who still toil away within monochrome offices or still worse those of you who are still trapped in the torture chambers of bleak factories, in fact I could almost be accused of gloating if I were to do so.
One of my favorite pleasures of late is the beast I feed at t' big garden where I now manage the gardens for four of the weeks seven days. This beast I speak of is not some canine guard of the gardens nor some escaped feral puma that some folk swear blind still roam these isles. The fact is that this beast does not eat meat, not having teeth to speak of, and is basically a vegetarian! I keep it fed, this gender-less (or as some feckwits now like to call themselves 'non-binary beings', oh for gawds sake), beast upon a diet of grass, waste food, shredded cardboard, weeds and rainwater. Now this may not seem to be much of a beast to the common man in the street but this behemoth can consume an kill any weed you'd care to mention and also any seeds that find they're way into its churning stomach.
|Do not be fooled, the beast is alive....|
Now perhaps you may be thinking by now that the Black Dog has finally unhinged my not to stable mind, especially when I tell you that this beast I speak of is in fact to the layman nothing more than a compost heap! Oh but the name does no justice to this living thing that takes the garden's waste and with careful management from its guardian, that'll be me, weaves its magic and produces such wondrous amounts of black gold (weed free compost to you lot) that in turn is helping turn t' big garden into something very special m'thinks. Hell in a few years you may see it featured in Cheshire life magazine or Gardener's World, well even us simpletons can dream you know! A thing that amazes myself about the beast is the heat that it produces, I challenge anyone to thrust their un-gloved hand deep within it and keep it there for more than a few minutes, nay seconds. In fact me and my grass cutting sidekick 'Cuddles' are considering what to cook within the bowels of said beast, I'm all for trying a small joint whilst Cuddles is leaning to chicken, then whichever meat is chosen, leaving it sealed in a pan with a tad of seasoning and water and consuming it for an evening meal when our day of garden toil is done. Obviously a glass of cider will have to be consumed with our compost cooked meat, simple things see.
Til the next time, take care and also take the time to slow down and live life, not just rush headlong through it...