Half way up the hill a woman in a bright orange sporty top passes at a run. Some people are just fit, why will this not work for all?
At the top of the hill sit down on the park bench there. The sun is just coming up behind the trees, watch a man with a wheelbarrow tending to a field of wild flowers. He walks out into the flowers, and reaches down with both hands and cuts something, then he has a stalk in his hand. This he carefully brings over to his wheelbarrrow and lays it down there, then he goes back and harvests more. Watch as this goes on and on, he makes slow progress along the strip of flowering parkland, with all the flowers blooming in a grass field and not in earthen bare beds. It was a thought that this was just nature, just a casting out of seeds and then no mowing of the grass any more. Yet there is a man doing gardening work.
An older man comes up the path, sits down upon a neighbouring park bench. He has two walking sticks, they are made of aluminium and look like the sticks that skiers use. He gets up after a very few minutes and walks on, his sticks clicking on the gravel, his feet crunching the stones against one another. He is like some quadruped, partly insect. He wishes a good morning, return the greeting.
He stops at the man in the field, the one with the wheelbarrow. They talk. Then the man with the sticks moves on and the man with the wheelbarrow continues to harvest whatever he is harvesting.
After another while watching walk over, following the gravel path. Go out into the field and ask the man what he is harvesting.
He is a gardener, and he is removing the sorrel from the field of wild flowers. He explains that if this is not done the sorrel will seed and that next year it will take over from and displace the other plants.
Fields of wild flowers need to be cared for too.
So he removes the stalks of sorrel carefully, one by one, taking care not to leave any parts behind.
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