If I’m rambling a little, it’s because I’m still trying to make sense of why I need to write this down, here of all placesI have buried myself in my garden at times. Lost myself in the depths of rich loam, renewed myself in new growth, scattered parts of me like self-sown seeds. I am my garden.So every time I come here to write about my garden, I am writing about myself. Between the beetroot seedlings and the apple prunings, there’s a little bit of me here and there. Continue reading…
Source : theguardian.com
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