But I have got some business out at the edge of town

Today I was angry at the vegetables. The tomatoes in particular. I took down their knocked-down trellising, the grey-dead vines bearing various stages of ripening, split and rotting fruits. I hated that I let them die, I hated that I had no time to charish them all. Angry at my own wealth and my lack of energy for them. Angry at the weeks of harvest and still, that there were more.

Then I got angry at the farm. At the light and the colours and textures in particular. I get frustrated that I can't keep it. I get angry that I can't share it all, that my camera can't capture it rightly and that I don't have a partner to see the animals backlit by the setting sun in the field.

I'd like to build a tower in my house to look west, out over the pasture, so that I can sit and have time to take it in. And to plant a garden almost too small, so that every imperfect product will be saved and we will still have time to preserve it.