April 12th, 2003 - 12:09 p.m.

A garden stroll.

In quietesence, is often the smallest of odd occurrences that begins to perturb: the buzz of disorienting insect close to the ears; the assault of well oiled machinery; the daft trumpeting of daffodil.

In the trunk of things runs a disdain for lack of imagination and disallowance for nature to run its due course. Cheap substitutes for beauty. And rampant classification.

Drunk the dew from petals and consumed a bitterly sweet borberry petal of delightful hue.

Note: Magnolia petals have a most distinguished texture, but the flavour leaves something else to be desired.

N.

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