I was feeling my garden yesterday and realized in Inspiration how gardens do really talk.
Mine this year was rototilled, so it really appreciated that in being freed of the lambsquarter which were overtaking it.
I study such things for signs in the evil which arrays against me, and know when harminoy occurs, that all is well with oracle of life.
I realize now that garden plants like being in rows. They like being among their own kind and respond to such segregation. The plants appreciate order in the continuity of their lives, and enjoy being tending as they comprehend the human is caretaker and will eat their yield, but do so in a respectful manner.
Dirt actually has a harmonious tone to it, when it is on the dry side, because it is not full of the acid activity then of weed sprouting and growth, in a war or curse taking place within it's Biblical grounds.
Harmony is best produced in the song of plants among their own kind, not competing, being nurtured, and free from encroachment of weeds or predators.
The harmony of my garden was disrupted by my goats, who responded to the evil associations of this world in demonic temptation and attacks upon me. In a yard full of grass, two of my goats decided an absolutely 95% patch of dirt was the place to be and started eating little beans, cabbages and shallot plants like a famine.
I know the source of this is evil people and satan, in moving good animals to sin, but this kind of attack, disturbs my garden plants in this murderous assault being assailed upon them.
The garden sings differently when the invasion of weeds of predators is suffering it.
In growing up, I liked gardeners as my Grandpa gardened, and was a master at it. For God's reasons of genetics I started gardening, and being drawn to it, have always loved it for the resonance found in a garden.
Just as dogs reflect human emotion, cats suck emotion out, horses deaden emotion and fish and reptiles give off no emotional coil, a good garden is a cleansing sponge to the human soul and Spirit in wicking away the negative energies and leaving one cleansed to the outside world in the space of the garden paradise.
It was the gardeners who grew things for necessity in food, which were the true gardeners. Now gardeners just do not feel right in most are doing it for that PBS fashion in competition or a "tight" in growing plants to save money while wasting money in not saving their own seeds.
Even though most seed savers are haughty A holes only doing it to lecture at people to feel superior.
None of that is harmonious, like the people who have horses are always more in love with the idea of a horse than the actual horse.
All of that is disharmony and when one goes by these people's gardens, they always feel in need of love, like their owners. It is really sad to see potato plants looking lonely in a garden which is pretty, when all they need is a little recognition to their being a part of human life.
I have a number of seeds and sets I do have, and there is harmony in that, as the plants respond to being at home in my soils in being acclimated. It is comforting to know the memories of that Petit Gres Rennes melon was one I enjoyed the summer before, and how the summer previous I was delighted on my birthday to first taste it's parent.
There is unity in that, a nativity of reality, in a family of memories in plants and seeds, all providing each other Spiritual and physical ecosystem to find a life niche which only will respond to the resonant frequency of the moment of time I reside here.
I have my favorites. Egyptian walking onions, some Dutch yellow shallots, the American Homestead pole bean, the Agria potatoes and one now growing in me in promise in Irish Cobbler potatoes.
I learn that Arikara white flour corn germinates is cold temperatures better than Brown County Yellow Dent, Improved Yellow Bantum or Buhl sweet corn.
There is always so much to learn, but a human can never live long enough to learn of plants in their nature as it takes a lifetime to just know a plant in the nation it resides.
Gardens are Spiritual things, like nations, and peoples. A garden is one identity and ideology and is thrown into chaos by foreigners or predators feeding off of it.
Plants know what is orderly and respond to it, and they know when something is wrong and should not be there.
I really believe that America is a nation of weeds now, and that is why Barack Hussein Obama was installed as the weeds of America hate the garden plot of God, and seek to overthrow the nourishing order.
As much as Mitt Romney and Karl Rove are the modern agriculturalists in dumping piles of Monstanto pesticide on the fruited plane and replacing the native American varieties with some genetic lab rat which will serve the capitalist better while destroying the entire environment.
My current garden plot was started by me 4 years ago. I spaded it by hand with potato fork and spade. It is an uncooperative piece of ground in too much clay which turns like concrete and at times too much sand to dry out.
It's flavored soil does not produce the best tasting food either, but it is out of the wind, and therefore the plants do not get beat to hell.
It is though a harmonious plot in which songbirds sit on the wires and sing. It desires to behave and be more. It reflects me in trying to be something beyond what God created. It talks and it feels the world, and I'm beginning to listen to it more in it's speech and emotions.
It did help clobbering it with a rototiller to teach it who was in charge, like numbers of things require in life.
It is though my garden and it responds to me, as it is under satanic attack.
It is though something which is not a weed patch nor a grass patch, feeling far too busy and not anything at all, but a mob of plants. It became a garden like people do when a Spiritual hand transforms the mass seeding into a message of the Law of sowing and Grace of harvest.
People should listen to their gardens more as they tell one things. I learn a great deal as I weed my garden in grooming it, it grooms me in weeding me of the evil of this world.
It is a matter in I love my garden, and my garden loves me.
The American garden planted by God is not loved now. I do not know if it ever will be loved until the time Jesus takes His rototiller too it, and teaches it Who is in charge and removes all those weeds in it, from destroying the plants sown in rows.
agtG
