The Restory Retreat Centre

Illustration: Rima Staines Sometimes a wild god comes to the table. He is awkward and does not know the ways Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver. His voice makes vinegar from wine. When the wild god arrives at the door, You will probably fear him. He reminds you of something dark That you might have dreamt, Or the secret you do not wish to be shared. He will not ring the doorbell; Instead he scrapes with his fingers Leaving blood on the paintwork, Though primroses grow In circles round his feet. You do not want to let him in. You are very busy. It is late, or early, and besides… You cannot look at him straight Because he makes you want to cry. The dog barks. The wild god smiles, Holds out his hand. The dog licks his wounds And leads him inside. The wild god stands in your kitchen. Ivy is taking over your sideboard; Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades And wrens have begun to sing An old song in the mouth of your kettle. ‘I haven’t m...

Photograph by Matilda Angus In a recent post on The Restory Retreat Centre’s facebook page Matilda mentioned me cutting the lawn around the house with a tractor and slasher. During a very good rainy season it has to be done weekly. In dry years like the current one it is done once in two or three weeks. Aesthetically it keeps the yard neat, but on a practical level it also serves as a buffer around the house against snakes and other creatures. With grass touching the window sills, the wild will literally be on our doorstep. This cutting exercise is indeed prime thinking time. While busy doing it last week I thought of all things about grass. Despite the validity of the aesthetics and safety factors, there are times when I feel as if I’m betraying some primal element of our lifestyle here at Barrowfield while busy with the tractor and slasher. Gerard Manley Hopkins advised, “Leave the wildness and wet” and here I am actively busy not leaving it. To rub salt in the wounds I recent...