King Canute (491)
by Max Akroyd
I’m a bit sceptical about one of the sacred cows of the ‘green’ gardening agenda, namely the injunction to “work with nature”. I suspect such a notion gets more creedence the further away we are from nature’s harsh embrace. If we truly worked with nature you wouldn’t have to grow your own vegetables, you could take mine – unless I’m bigger/better armed than you are. If you’ve seen a pig being slaughtered you’ll know Rousseau was a bloody charlatan.
When confronted with nature’s latest mischief this morning, an inconvenient and hard frost all over the bed I was about to cultivate, my nature was strongly suggesting I should give up and watch the Jeremy Kyle show instead. Fortunately I’d previously changed nature’s preferred clothing – weeds – for a dodgy plastic number; and this plastic mulch, when pulled back, allowed me some frost-free digging. I did enough trenching to release enough mulch to cover one of the small beds into which the artichokes will be planted in spring.
This afternoon I’m off to town in the car (unnatural), using more petrol (natural, processed), to buy some seed potatoes (natural, modified).