Then suddenly everything ripens in your garden at the same time, and you work like mad.

And the slugs – they are the critics who eat up your words.

So you’ll have really busy times; and then there are those silent times when you think nothing is happening (oh and that’s dreadful! - those icy winters, dormant, cold) but they might be essential for the ‘plants to be’.

Are there seasons for writing?
Grow word-meadows easier in darkness or at full moon?

Some word-plants ripen quickly and carry red fruit and are sweet.
But figs take two years before they are edible.
Don’t cut them in year one.

You and our words - you and your garden …

You can do what you want in your word garden – it’s utter freedom as long as you don’t compare your garden to your neighbour’s (who is using weed killer and constantly buys new truly boring plants in Homebase).

Do I have green fingers?
Do I enjoy myself?
Am I astonished about some weird plant, which suddenly appears in my garden and blossoms into pale blue delicate flowers – (thank god, I didn’t rip out the first green shoots … and what the hell is THAT?)

The reflective gardener stands on her or his land after a hard day’s work and looks and observes and muses and dreams and then enters the strange world of not knowing –gardener and garden merge -
A perfect stage.

Oh the slugs – only pellets seem to do the job.

Enjoy your freedom!