BACK TO NATURE
In the lead-up to writing, whether it be an essay, novel, short story, or a poem, I experience a combined sense of excitement and dread. This can go on for hour, days or, in this case, weeks. The excitement keeps possibility alive; dread keeps killing it, until finally a gathering takes place: a mental gathering of fodder such as a glimpse of an idea and then possibly another. Little clumps of questioning thought. Sometimes the arrival of these thoughts is exciting, and sometimes I fear that there are too many to cohere, or not enough to build on.The gathering has begun today and I sit myself down in the sunny, Sunday, garden and put pen to paper, opening once again to the possibility of discovery, maybe even a revelation.
I’m not the only one here foraging around. After a ridiculous trip that involved 2 trains, 2 planes, 2 cities, and 3 hotels in 8 days, we returned with colds and exhaustion, but also with gratitude to be coming home to our lovely garden…only to find that a badger has taken up residence here and is nightly, systematically digging up the lawn and flower beds in his hunt for food.
There are moments, sometimes months, and frankly this whole year, when, call it what you want – Murphy’s Law, Mercury Retrograde, Shit Happens, Shit hits the fan – when negative energy just keeps piling up to the point where, if not careful, one can start feeling hopeless, or trapped, or just plain depressed to the point where anything positive becomes invisible. Well, fuck that. Writing, for me, is about making the invisible visible.
The trip, in hindsight, was totally nuts. We planned it around two photography events: the closing of Joel’s exhibition at The Helmut Newton Foundation in Berlin, and our dear friend, Gus Powell’s, opening at Micamera in Milan, both of which were fantastic. We have good friends in both cities which made the whole idea seem worthwhile and adventurous. Sure. 2 cities, no problem. Really? We’ve been isolated on a Tuscan farm for 18 months breathing fresh air, surrounded by peaceful beauty…and we’re old. And evidently either stupid or senile. Because really, we didn’t think 2 trains, 2 planes, 2 cities, 3 hotels, 8 days, might be chewing off just a tad too much?
All of us have lost a lot since the pandemic, even if many of us are comparatively lucky. Joel and I have always been travelers and although we’ve lived on this farm for 7 ½ years we have, until Covid, regularly forayed out into the world; to the US to see family and friends; to European cities to take in culture and more friends. And we’ve traveled for our work, both separately and together.This was our first venture back out into the world and we took it on with positive energy and the egotistical need to prove that we could still do it. But proving one can do something is different that actually needing to do it. Turns out we can still do it, we just don’t want to anymore.
It’s questionable as to whether humanity is best served by city-living. Visiting these 2 cities was, like everything in life, a 50/50 experience. At first it was great to see that energy had returned to them. But on taking a closer look the energy was disappointing. I sat at a sidewalk café in Milan for half an hour and watched consumerism in action: consumption of multiple cups of espresso, cigarette smoking, shopping bags full of new clothing, cars bumper to bumper, make-up and jewelry glittering like debauchery in the autumn sunlight. Really, I thought, after 20 months of isolation this is what people choose to return to?
We cut our trip short by 2 days eager to get back to nature. Of course, what we really wanted was a return to paradise. Mr. Badger reminded us that it doesn’t exist. We’ve been back just over a week now and I’ve gone from disbelief at the damage one creature can cause to 7 years of hard work, to staying in the house so as not to see the havoc, to wanting kill the bastard, to setting a trap in the hope that Mr. Badger can be caught and relocated far from here.
Yet here’s the reality: I made a decorative garden in the middle of wild countryside. I am the intruder. The badger has every right to be here. More than that, he’s here because of climate change. He’s here because after 5 months of drought and extreme temperatures there is no food for him in the woods. And we all are responsible for that. He’s coming here because we could afford to irrigate the lawn and garden all summer, making an environment rich in worms, larva, bulbs and tubers. We are destroying the planet so now the badger gets to destroy my privileged garden.
Last year, when Covid scared the shit out of us and locked us up for our sins, many of us swore we would change the way we live. And many of us had a rose-tinted vision of going back to nature. There is no going back. However, we can look after what’s left of it as we go forward. I’m sad that my garden is being ruined, but I’m even sadder about the suffering and destruction we continue to wreak on nature. Perhaps this is a good time to take a look at our individual choices and the ways in which we continue to contribute to that which we lament.
I just bought a vintage slop-bucket for our food scraps which we will then give to the farmers to feed their animals. What small thing can you do?As always, thank you for being on this journey with me.
I hope you are all well.
With love, Maggie
