The earth is a jungle, a force always demanding a reckoning. It is relentless, defeating every tool we have to tame it, including man. My lover and I bought twelve acres of jungle 15 years ago. We carved out about an acre to cultivate and live on. It continues to grow and push into us. Our lawn is the small plot we war over, us against the jungle. The jungle sends out underground roots to reclaim it, seeds of wild plants blow over it, and wild animals see it as their feeding ground, literally eating everything we bring in and plant. We keep marching over it, cutting back its grasses, planting more flowers and fruit trees. adding nutrients to the soil, tilling, and killing wicked insects. At best, we can claim a stalemate, but as I have grown older, I am realizing nature will have the final say. If I were to walk away today, the jungle would have it all back in a year.
It is a full-time job dominion-ing one acre. That “sweat of the brow” declaration is a stake pounded deep into the jungle that no human can ever remove.
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| Part of the taming is cutting up the jungle Sentinels that fall, which also provide us heat in the winter. |
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