Now All My Teachers Are

In The Time That I Have Been Acquainted With This Region I Have Become Increasingly Aware Of It As A Testament Of Water, The Origin And Guide Of Its Contours And Gradients And Of All The Lives - The Plants And Small Creatures, And The Culture - That Evolved Here. That Was Always Here To Be Seen, Of Course, And The Recognition Has Forced Itself, In One Form Or Other, Upon People In Every Part Of The World Who Have Been Directly Involved With The Growing Of Living Things. The Gardener Who Ignores It Is Soon Left With No Garden.

I Had Hardly Begun To Read I Asked How Can You Ever Be Sure That What You Write Is Really Any Good At All And He Said You Can't You Can't You Can Never Be Sure You Die Without Knowing Whether Anything You Wrote Was Any Good If You Have To Be Sure Don't Write

From What We Cannot Hold The Stars Are Made.

Obviously A Garden Is Not The Wilderness But An Assembly Of Shapes, Most Of Them Living, That Owes Some Share Of Its Composition, It’s Appearance, To Human Design And Effort, Human Conventions And Convenience, And The Human Pursuit Of That Elusive, Indefinable Harmony That We Call Beauty. It Has A Life Of Its Own, An Intricate, Willful, Secret Life, As Any Gardener Knows. It Is Only The Humans In It Who Think Of It As A Garden. But A Garden Is A Relationship, Which Is One Of The Countless Reasons Why It Is Never Finished.

There Is Part Of A Structure In Which Every Species Is Related To Every Other Species. And They're Built Up On Species, Like A Pyramid. The Simpler Cell Organisms, And Then The More Complicated Ones, All The Way Up To The Mammals And Birds And So Forth. We Call It 'developing Upward'... The Whole Thing Depends On Every Part Of It. And We're Taking Out The Stones From The Pyramid.