Everybody, we presume, has at some time, at least in his semi-conscious mind, harbored a secret resolve that, some day, he will quit whatever he is doing and withdraw from the vile world of competition into the soothing and non-acquisitive world of Nature. Many of the people who have taken this plunge, and have disappeared from our kin, have further surprised us by bobbing up again, encircled by their new hobby as by a life preserver. Some are actually making money out of it, so habitual is our acquisitive nature. But when my turn came to say "goodbye, proud world, I'm going home," my motives were far purer.
My ambition was a clean, abstract contemplation of Nature, unsullied by any financial motives. The world of flowers, insects, protozoa, birds, would, I thought, entirely satisfy my declining years. Living in Mexico, I thought I had chosen the line of least resistance when I began with flowers. There, flowers seemed to sprout unassisted out of lampposts, and I had a nice little plot of mingled grass and mud just waiting for them. Trotting rapturously to the nearest seed store, I bought five packages containing-so it said on the wrapper-nasturtiums, mint, snapdragon, larkspur and digitalis. The mint was to be for salads; the digitalis for heart disease-in case I ever got it; the larkspur for beauty, and the snapdragons, which I really detest, to satisfy a childhood longing to see them snap.
I spent a happy day planting the seeds, and, at twilight, presented my ruined fingernails to a stout manicurist from Sweden, who, having a garden of her own, informed me that Mexican seeds are no good and I should have sent to the States; that you do not plant seeds in the earth but in special boxes; that Mexican soil is completely barren unless constantly fed with nitrates, phosphates, silicates, bicarbonates and other horticultural shots in the arm.
But I was still in a carefree mood, and said, "Nonsense, look at the wild flowers." Nevertheless, the next day I bought a book on gardening, with a lovely picture of flowers on its outside. It was nasty inside, however, devoting much attention to bone-dust, manure, arsenic, cutworms and fat white grubs. I exchanged it for a book about Burbank, which I found far more inspiring. Indeed, I decided, when the time was ripe, to cross the mint with the larkspur, and the snapdragon with the digitalis, just to see what I would get.
My creative faculties were now fully aroused. I hovered like a moth over my potential garden, staring for hours at the dull earth. I even got up in the night with a flashlight to sneak up on my embryos, because I had heard that things grow at night. And, on the fourth night, they did grow. Bristling like hairs in the dark earth, little, green, furled spikes actually had arisen out of the soil. It must be fertile!
About this Author
David is the author of many articles including Best Friend Quotes and also the author of Best life quotes
Other articles:
Cute Best Friend
Best life quotes
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