How does your garden grow?
In my sister's car there's a plethora of hessian bags full of weeds, boots, watering cans and plants that are between death and healthy growth. She talks fast and furious and as she does I notice, above her head, hurrying out from a lip in the car's upholstery, a small spider the size of a currant zipping out, then zipping back for an unexpected curtain call.
She talks of slugs and snails and the most appropriate way of murdering them and it's not by Colonial Custard in the ballroom with a lead pipe, it's by hunting with a torch, finding them and flinging them onto a busy main road. I suppose they'e got a chance then, if they are not concussed by the fall they could possibly slither between the tyre wheels and make it to the side, thus surviving, but she also talkes of the happy molusces who were in the weed bag and would 'have a ball at the rubbish tip'
Then, from the corner of the Sun flap of the car, I see a silver thread, a mission impossible wire which drops down half an inch and a spider, as big as a pea, scuttles to the end and ascends back to its padded, centrally heated abode.
The digging, planting, moving bricks, digging the earth, smelling the ground on wet days and when the Sun turns the moisture into warm smells of vegetation, being dirty and turning a sprig of leaves into a new plant, she likes it all. The eco system stops we have reached our destination. I see another spider small as rice run along the window. Mary, Mary I know how your garden grows and it grows well.
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