Pen & Ink, on 1/4 sheet 110lb a4 paper, this one from memory, Hollidge Tract, York Regional Forest, edge of trail.
We have a load of fresh dirt in the yard, not dirt, but rich dark earth, topsoil that looks like it came from somewhere good. I hope that we can do it some justice and grow green things with it. What a mixed up world we live in: chopping down whole forests, scraping it down to the bone, then covering it with concrete and asphalt, to make sterile places for cars, buildings, workplaces, and us.
And here I am, turning my own world upside down, having half of a concrete driveway (thank you Randy) dug up and disposed, and good earth trucked in from some murdered forest. Because what we got looks like really good earth, dark and black, with the fine hairs of roots mixed in, the crushed bones of some distant eco-system. I can’t look at this soil without thinking it is in some part a graveyard of a place that once sprouted trees & mushrooms that now sprouts houses and cars.
I hope we can do it justice, growing green things here, broad leaved plants along it’s edges, and a mixed lawn of grasses, clover and wild oregano and whatever other benign things wander in. I hope the local wildlife find it good for forage and shelter, and of course I hope I too will enjoy walking through, sitting in and looking at this tiny new potential green square of space.
PS. This is Hosta Plantaginea, my favourite plant, gorgeous glossy giant weed destroying foliage all summer long, huge luminous fragrant white blossoms in August. And fragrant does not do it justice, the scent is off the finest perfume that on still warm nights will fill the garden.