Letter to Monty 12

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Dear Monty,

Two days and two films.

17/2/12

Seeds have come. I have been angry for no justifiable reason. I am a sinner.
To get the accumulated stuff of the day out of my head I watch two films. Film 1 is about poverty and desperation in the borderlands of Northern USA...its about 'dishonesty and crime' but love wins.

Film 2 is inspiring, it is about 2 little girls brought up in a city apartment by their mum, they go to a city school, have city values, moulded by the environment they live in. Then comes change, they have to leave mum to stay with an aunt in the semi rural suburbs, left without schooling they have to fend for themselves. They are finally moved again, this time to the remote countryside to live with grandma who has holes in her shoes, a happy contented woman living off the land with 'enough' food, 'enough' warmth and 'enough' skill to make dough, gather food, wash clothes and look after the grandchildren teaching them new life lessons. The girls sang on their way back from the fields...they were poor but happy....love wins.

18/2/12

This morning - this new morning - could be one of contrition and depression - cold, wet, windy. But trudging down to the chicken house with a bag of corn I am in the Far East. I look back to the house and see a cloud garden. Dripping and misty wet pines in pots, almost a monochrome scene in silver black and green.
Then I turn to the chicken house again and the lattice fence with its potted tree before it sings an oriental song.
Here I am in my worn out gardening boots with holes in - spiky 'bed' hair and old smelly gardening fleece, and I am HAPPY. I am even happier when after cleaning out and feeding the girls, I move a pot to find a fat female frog hunkered down. When she lumbers forward she is followed by curious chickens...so I rescue her.

What a contrast to my view of the garden yesterday when I was angry with myself and the world, when the garden looked bleak, dead, a boggy mess....my soul reflected in a garden.

'Great Garden of Ystalyfera' it is not - neither Derry Moore nor you Monty would find anything here of interest - but for me at this moment, it is paradise.



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