Iznibz at Home

After more than ten years of virtual homelessness, a part of me has found a virtual home. I'm grateful for small mercies, don't know whether to laugh or cry. I'll try to remain positive. The mission in hand at present, the Return to the Fabled Realm. Unfolding a sustainable life supporting future from the eroding relic of the historic mistake. I hope the little field has seen the last of the tractor.It needs to rest after the rigors of industrial servitude as do I. Mutuality observed. It needs to become a place in it's own right not just a thing to be used and then abandoned. I think I know how it must feel. We're both walking wounded.
They threw me out with the rubbish, back in the day's when they treated human resources as just another cheap commodity,they thought recycling was a form of hippy transport. I recycled myself, no longer fit for commercial exploitation. Left to it's own devices the earth might resurrect itself, in doing so it may exclude a place where Man might be hospitably nourished, nurtured or sustained. That wouldn't do. By rights we should be going in the same direction to where our mutual destiny is served. A place, a living space, a state of grace.
Wisdom is a divine quality of action, it may not hide it's nature in a word that can be uttered by the mouth of man.
Meeting the challenge of sun baked clay and schiste joyfully, the land seemed to meet us half way allowing us to put much into store already with an abundance yet to come. Where it's been dug the surface area is increased and the available root space. since the work began in April the garden field has become a more profound and convoluted place. I scratch the unutterable word upon the earth I am sustained by the harvest of it's meaning. We eat, we smile. I return to my labours inspired by visions of a glorious future.