Infrastructure isn't glamorous, but we cannot do without it. This part of the fall project was the irrigation upgrade. Some sprinkler heads were switched out for drippers, others were unnecessary and were capped off. Sprinkler...
The switch may not save a lot of water, but it will save some. In addition, some of the sprinkler spray hits the stucco walls. Wasteful and damaging. Since water is the enemy of stucco, getting rid of the sprinklers will prolong the stucco life. Infrastructure isn't glamorous, but it matters.
Needing a break from the muddy tedium of digging up pipes, I turned to a little deadheading. Lopping off a tall cane of 'Tamora', I suddenly discovered something firmly grabbing my sleeve. A panicked screech and flail of surprise followed. Something flew off my sleeve and onto the pavement. I discovered it was my little buddy the Mantid that I photographed several weeks ago. She's still around!
Luckily, she appeared uninjured. However, she looked as startled as I felt. My panic nearly turned to fear and anger. If it had, I might have crushed her with my shoe, or cut her head off with my secateurs. And thus become, in miniature, a monster. I managed to chose not to do that. I took some deep breaths instead, then found and extended a leaf, which she grabbed hold of, and used the leaf to carefully lift and place her back into some foliage, where she'd be safe while recovering from her encounter with me, the hapless giant.
The garden is my little domain wherein I have the power of life and death. I make the choices here. I am the dictatorial general, the ruthless plutocrat of this garden. Mantids, climbing roses, dandelions, live or die by my hand. I can build infrastructure and balance into my world; use thought instead of anger, or....destroy the innocent.
The powerful are either careful to stay mindful of the effects of their power, or they choose to become monsters. Even in a little garden, just as in the wider world. We can choose to build, or we can choose to destroy.