Further to Rose and I taking time off in the garden . . .
On Thursday, when I took time out of the office to show Rose around Regent’s Park, in a certain place, we found a gardener.
He was trimming the edges of one of the beds by hand, using one of those long-handled clipper things, quietly giving the garden a softness impossible using a powered tool.
As we passed his gardening trolley, we heard – quietly from a radio he’d placed inside one of his plastic gardening buckets – the sound of a Bach organ work.
We sat and contemplated the beauty of the created garden, man and nature working together. (Spinoza knew of this long before we did.)
What I wanted to say also is that this was not a special place per se. It had been created and made special by the respect accorded to nature here; the cooperation between man and nature here.
The sound of Bach against that background quietness was not a special sound per se. It had been created and made special by the respect accorded by Bach to, let us say, the ineffable (and for Bach, most certainly, that was God); the cooperation between man and that ineffable.
I did not wish to intrude upon the gardener’s devotions so I did not take a photograph.
Related posts:
Gardener’s QT - just what I always wanted from a metropolitan blog.
I take it he didn’t take you both and shag you senseless while his Radio 3 was playing then?
I was hoping he’d get his mighty tool out and pleasure you both to the sound of some classical symphony, ending in some almighty, drenched climax.
Oh well.