I have just dug up potatoes its great… stabbing the fork in the ground somewhere in the vicinity of the dried stalk and unearthing a nest of underground eggs. my hands sifting thru the earth and pulling out a dark purple potato and another one and another until I have a basket full of promises of meals to come. there is something very sensual about it . some people will get it but I guess others might even think that weird. I mean we are so far into our own realities aren’t we . my reality contains growing food and I have a song inside me for the veges and the herbs and the rain that waters them and the sun that grows them . years ago I shared my menstrual blood with the garden the children turned a blind eye my beloved encouraged me and the garden loved it. the connection deepened the earth and I became lovers sharing our juices with each other. taking it too far perhaps??? what sort of union do you feel with this planet you live on? and do you even notice? is it just a world to you ? a life within a city of buildings jobs business credit cards iPods and emails entertainment sex alcohol partying church sporting buying busy busy inside walls inside cars inside screens always inside always busy 24/7 maybe that is your reality . maybe you need tampons and deodorant maybe you need labels and insurance maybe you have never ever thought about where you live why you exist and what you live on and no I am not talking bout income. ecstasy doesn’t just live in a pill it inhabits raindrops and ocean spray it is found on mountains and in rivers in gardens and forests it inhabits wild creatures and sings thru the dawn chorus it is in your fingertips and on your tastebuds. all is an erogenous zone when you are the zone. I gathered carrots and turnips and beans today I weeded around rocket and beetroot and basil. I have dirt under my fingernails and between my toes. it seems normal to me to be having an experience with earth and sun and cloud and wallaby and tree and fern and rock and spirit. to talk to the wind to hear the reply. this morning I sang to the tomatoes and they moved gently in the no breeze in response to my loving tones and now I am singing you.