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I contemplate a lot in my garden. I contemplate whether the gaura needs dividing, and whether the pink lilies clash with my 'Heritage' rosebush. I contemplate pulling a few dozen nicotiana to eliminate the jungle-like, strangled look that the garden inevitably assumes at this time of summer. Then I contemplate the glorious fragrance that I know they will send out at twilight if I leave them in place. Most of the time all this blissful contemplation is disturbed by the sight of yet another weed pushing through the plants. Then I contemplate weedicide.
I leap up, take it prisoner and settle back down. Where was I? Oh yes. . . watching a butterfly getting lost in the heart of a trumpet lily, and baby hummingbird moths swarming all over the buddleia, listening to the sound of the grasses as they sway in a stray breeze. Sometimes, I can even hear snap of goldfish teeth as they go after errant mosquitoes. There is much to contemplate in my garden on a fine summer's day. What I don't contemplate in this garden are jobs that need doing, problems that need solving, articles that need writing, or any of those other things we usually think of when we think of contemplation. Unless, of course, I am sitting in the garden at night, when everything is reduced to light and shadow and all of the distracting details have faded into the night. There are times when we all need a place where we can just sit and think - to contemplate the mysteries of the universe, to think through a knotty problem, or just to be alone and at peace for a while - a garden where you can really think about something other than the garden. We need a simple place, which lulls the senses and frees the mind. Something like a Zen garden, or a fern glade, which are soothing to both the eyes and the spirit. A Zen garden is almost an abstraction of a garden. It may not have any plants in it - just some very carefully placed rocks and some raked gravel, an abstraction of a landscape representing mountains and water. It becomes almost a blank canvas - an invitation for the viewer to fill in their own meaning. With little to distract us, we are freed to let our mind wander through this abstraction, to try to discover meanings both in the landscape and within ourselves.
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