The other day,
as I was walking home, eating blackberries from the hedgerow bushes as I went,
I came across a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. It was fluttering
frantically, setting up such a tremendous vibration, the web was throbbing with
it.
I walked on by.
We’ve often
talked (in our family) about the way, when we’re watching animal films, we side
with the first creature we are introduced to. If we are presented with a nice
white polar bear whose cubs are hungry, we are pleased and relieved when she
finds food. If the film starts with a seal, flopping around on the ice or
swimming gracefully through the water, we are truly distressed when we see her
eaten . . . by the polar bear.
Nature is
nature. We mustn’t let our feelings get in the way. The spider would starve if
I released all its prey. The butterfly was probably too damaged by its
struggles to survive.
I went back and
released it and it flew away.
Morally, it
seemed the right choice. In most ordinary decisions in a day, I need to respond
to my inner callings or I will turn harsh - even if these decisions are illogical
or made simply because of the order in which I come across them.
‘Draped four
feet off the ground, between the clump river birch and the verbena, is a web
about eighteen inches in diameter. In the middle rests a plump, female yellow
spider . . . With another glut of grasshoppers, perhaps holdovers from 2009, I
have a great idea. I walk over to the switchgrass, sneak up on a grasshopper,
and swiftly close my hand around it. It claws and tickles, then seems to bite
at my palm as I rush it over, wildly tossing it into the web. It struggles, and
in so doing, drops an inch or two, and almost freeing itself only becomes
tangled again . . .’
I thought of the
butterfly. But Benjamin is thinking of the spider - and he is sad when the
season ends and the empty web is left to rip and disintegrate as winter
approaches.
It’s all in the
order of things.
I can’t explain
why I like this book so much. Its contents are random yet he never rambles. It
doesn’t really have a beginning or an end. There’s a sort of beginning when he
marries his wife . . . but after that it could be read in any order. It’s a
sort of meditation. Poetical but not poetry. Such an approach could be
irritating. I am not irritated. I am entranced.
Maybe Benjamin
writes like this because he is a blogger. I find myself talking to you - the
readers - as I go through the day; as I hack at the honeysuckle, bewail the
tomatoes, turn the compost or chuck snails over the wall. All the time I am
describing. This is what this book feels like; the discussion which goes on
between a blogger and his or her readers, whether they are there or not.
Maybe this is
why he dreams of inviting people into his garden even though he is a
misanthrope. Inviting people in in one’s thoughts or on a blog is a safe thing
to do.
Benjamin’s
garden is in Nebraska and, as an English reader, I am very conscious that I am
reading about another world. The birds
are unfamiliar:
‘Juncos,
sparrows, blue jays, house finches, yellow finches, northern flickers, mourning
doves, grackles, robins, various woodpeckers . . .’
I know about
robins and sparrows - but juncos, flickers and grackles?!
Issues about
lawn-mowing . . . has his wife really never heard the word ‘herbaceous’? . . .
does he not speak to his neighbours? . . .
There are
puzzles.
There’s envy. (I
would like, so much, to have a garden as big as he has!)
More envy. (I wish I had his budget!)
More envy. (I wish I had his budget!)
There are trees and plants and garden centres; praise for plants which grow tall; successes, failures, experiments brought back from the brink; enthusiasm for butterflies, birds, seasons . . . . but all in brief because it is a short book.
In this country
I can buy Sleep, Creep, Leap for my Kindle but only readers in North America
can buy it as a ‘proper’ book as well. (I like Kindles so I’m not too put out.
All the same . . . )
Challenging.
Entrancing. Worth reading - especially if you want to support fellow bloggers!.
Amazon.co.uk - Sleep, Creep, Leap
Amazon.com Sleep, Creep, Leap
Bejamin Vogt's Blog - The Deep Middle
P.S. I struggled for days to work out why it's called Sleep, Creep, Leap! I think it's because he didn't know how gardening would grip his life before he started. He began with a little garden, then leapt in with a big one and massive (almost obsessive?) enthusiasm. Perhaps you should ask him?
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8 comments:
"Sleep, creep, leap" is also how a certain flowering vine -- was it clematis? -- was described to me. THat the first year it would sleep, the second it would creep, and that the third year, it would leap (insofar as growth was concerned).
As an American, I can absolutely confirm for you that it is quite possible that someone would not know the word "herbaceous". :-\
Sounds like a book I'd read and have written it down...
Pearl
p.s. And I WOULD love to meet the people I have online relationships with (as a comment to your comment the other day!). I do readings of my work here and there (working on my next book now, actually) and I've often wished I could travel to where my readers are... I have perhaps a dozen or two daily readers in the UK -- perhaps we could meet at your house. :-)
Hope your Tuesday is going well.
Interesting and thoroughly enjoyable review and insight Esther. I'll definitely look into the book.
Your anecdote about freeing the butterfly is something to ponder about. In this life it is sometimes worth trusting your gut feelings, as well as being pragmatic in ones approach to life. Deep thoughts for a Tuesday ;)
Pearl already described the expression sleep, creep, leap which is a common saying among gardeners in the US about perennials. Since The book is about his three-year garden journey, the title is all clever and topical. :)
Grasshoppers are a pest here, like the snails you threw over the wall... They eat everything.
I love spiders but would have freed the struggling butterfly too. The same way I brake for animals and try to save hurt birds. I just can't NOT. Yes, nature is nature, but when I see it live and up close, it's about me, too.
I love your line "In most ordinary decisions in a day, I need to respond to my inner callings or I will turn harsh..." Agreed!
Finally, I feel the same way about your exotic birds in England! (And flickers are super cute!)
The essay about his wife and ... herbaceous ... was on his blog as a taster. It stays in my mind, as a powerful and gentle love story.
I had a similar thought whilst watching the Emperor penguins going hungry in Happy Feet and then wondering how I'd feel if they decided to eat Nemo.
Disney has a lot to answer for.
Pearl and Monica got it, and so did you Esther (I like your take on the title, better than what I'd intended!). I'm so happy you enjoyed the book, and feel free to ask other questions--always tell my students there never is a bad one! Here's the link to the chapter where I teach my wife Latin plant names: http://deepmiddle.blogspot.com/2011/04/naming.html
Interesting! Sounds like a good book. Isn't it funny, though, how many words and phrases we DON'T have in common with our American cousins.
And of course they have green thumbs instead of green fingers!
I so identify with that spider's web dilemma...
Best wishes :)
You make it a book that just cries out to be read. Am off to check out the blog as the next best thing. I do find the differences in language between here and the US surprising, entrancing and confusing, in about equal measure. Particularly, somehow, when it comes to birds. I get all comfortable feeling like I know what "they" are talking about and then they go confuse me...
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