“There are no green thumbs or black thumbs,” wrote horticulturalist Henry Mitchell. “There are only gardeners and non-gardeners. Gardeners are the ones who get on with the high defiance of nature herself, creating, in the very face of her chaos and tornado, the bower of roses and the pride of irises. It sounds very well to garden a ‘natural way.’ You may see the natural way in any desert, any swamp, any leech-filled laurel hell. Defiance, on the other hand, is what makes gardeners.”
Blogger CRISTIAN MIHAI recently wrote about the idea of truth being stranger than fiction. Many times I’ve found that lies I’ve told myself are easier to believe than truth and that stories I write about real events seem far more unbelievable than when I’m just coming up with stuff. Novelists take what is natural (chaos) and turn it into gardens.
In the natural world sheep throw their babies away if they’re weak or sick. Some people do the same. Most of us are okay with defying the natural on this.
I like wild places (this is a partial lie because I’m afraid of bears and parasites), but I love manicured places best: gardens, hay fields and beaches with boardwalks.
There is a sense that humans somehow invaded the planet and really should go back to where they came from. Humans write these things and talk about these things. I’ve done it myself (usually after oil spills), but there are valid reasons to stand in defiance against nature.
Back to the Land: I once was a proponent for this lifestyle choice. I went on guided walks in Brooklyn to learn how to scavenge food from Prospect Park. I learned that cattails taste like cucumber. I moved to a farm. I considered (briefly) making my own shoes. Yet every avenue I explored circled back around to leaving a footprint on something “pristine.” Without my help many an animal would have died of parasite overload or starvation after being caught in a bramble. Those natural potato beetles I squash everyday have taught me a lot.
Cave Drawings: Okay, I suppose primitive art is interesting in a way, but John Singer Sargent’s portraits prove to me that practice and defying our natural state can be a pretty great thing.
Plumbing: I know it’s cliche, but it has to be mentioned.
Leisure Time: A nomadic existence being one with nature (which again is sort of a lie) doesn’t leave much time to invent the washing machine. Or the novel.
Novels: I like novels–no, I love novels. When you’re doing whatever has to be done to make shoes and to fight off wilderness creatures, writing and reading novels kind of takes a back seat. (don’t forget paper! I refuse to feel guilty about loving the invention of paper).
Computers: How many back-to-the land bloggers are out there? Quite a few. How many times have I found great “natural” remedies for common insect problems online? Many times. Yet sometimes I’ve given myself and my animals modern meds. I want to live!
Garden of Eden: News flash: we don’t live there. We’re not perfect. The other day an old comment I made (2013) on someone’s blog came back to haunt me. I upset a reader by clumsily trying to make the point that in my opinion every race, color and creed have the seeds of evil and good in them. The person wanted me to think that only people with a European heritage were “evil.” I respectfully disagreed and wished her well, even after this person told me to take my bullshit else where and that I didn’t belong on a blog that wasn’t even her own. Can I help it if I see us as all one big, screwed-up family? Can I blind myself to the danger of silencing others by labeling entire groups as “evil” or “guilty”?
When I was young I liked to point the finger and to imagine that with home-made shoes and no novels life would be better. But it was a lie. People may have the seeds of evil, but their defiance of nature has, in so many complex ways, created a lot of beauty as well. I feel sad that human creativity has been channeled so often in ugly directions. Celebrating our degradation is not great art to me. Take me to a garden, however flawed, draw me a picture, write a novel about love. It’s an act of defiance–life-enhancing defiance.
Are you a gardener in life? Tell me all about it.
Author Adrienne Morris 
8 responses to “7 Reasons For Working Against Nature”
No gardener me! Nor do I have a garden here except a coffin-sized courtyard. I sit out the front watching the world go by and wondering how long before I phone the Coastal Gardener to do something beautiful with my three pots! I’m currently trying to kill a zebra plant that I was told I couldn’t kill. Watch me! As for your Garden of Eden para, I’m appalled. This is exactly the kind of discrimination that has led the world into the state we’re in. Greetings from a very sunny Isle of Wight!
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Greetings back! I grew up in a family of very opinionated people. I don’t feel threatened by other people’s opinions and always hope to learn something from them–even if they upset my worldview. Just have to wish people well and move on.
It’s sunny here too!
Love,
A
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I think it’s the flaws that make life interesting and poignant. There’d be no stories worth telling if there were no flaws, right? Nature, to me, is planetary perfection, but that doesn’t mean it’s kind or cooperative. That’s not its point. The best we can hope for, I believe, is to fit in, respectful and with a hearty dose of realism – the challenge is finding the balance. I’m a gardener, but more often than not, that involves pulling weeds. 😀
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How dare you pull weeds! LOL. I’m a reluctant, lazy gardener. I love the beauty of flowers but have no idea how to organize them, It’s more a crazy hodgepodge.
What is the point of nature, I wonder? Greater minds than mine struggle with this question. Sigh.
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I’m lazy too and my garden is a random patchwork of flowers and veggies. I do pull weeds and I feed them back into the soil. We’re all happy. 😀
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Have you asked the weeds? lol
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I won’t comment on everything here, but the cave paintings, in my opinion, are amazing. The people who created them had no surety of life, food, or shelter in any way, and yet crawled through dark tunnels, sometimes dropping long flights into unknown spaces, to find walls and ceilings where they could paint their dreams, hopes, and fears. They crafted paint from raw materials around them – no art stores in sight. There is much evidence that their work was the result of study and practice that didn’t survive thousands of years though the paintings did. The creatures they painted were often enormous, requiring skills not assisted by mirrors or yardsticks or a camera obscura. I love Sargent’s work but I’m awed by ancient people who risked so much to paint. To express the ineffable, to seek splendor, to approach the divine. Art doesn’t have to be in a gold frame to be valuable or worthy.
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I was being a little obnoxious about cave paintings. Point taken. And what you say about them gives me new appreciation. Yet I’m still glad we got to Rembrandt and Renoir 😉 “to approach the divine” what a great way to put it. It’s really the only thing worth doing, but we get so distracted, don’t we?
Always enjoy your comments. You keep me on my toes.
xx
A
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