Absence Becomes The Greatest Presence.

True Gardeners Cannot Bear A Glove Between The Sure Touch And The Tender Root.

In The Garden The Door Is Always Open Into The "holy" - Growth, Birth, Death. Every Flower Holds The Whole Mystery In Its Short Cycle, And In The Garden We Are Never Far Away From Death, The Fertilizing, Good, Creative Death.

Gardening Gives One Back A Sense Of Proportion About Everything - Except Itself.

I Would Predicate That In All Great Works Of Genius Masculine And Feminine Elements In The Personality Find Expression, Whether This Androgynous Nature Is Played Out Sexually Or Not.

Now I Become Myself. It’s Taken Time, Many Years And Places.