Phillip Carroll Morgan

I. i saved my energy as i read, like managing held-breath underwater so i could extend my survey and not miss anything great

herds of buffalo gone now you search the undulating sea of grass near campo and wildhorse for the great hairy horned whales but none surface instead if you look carefully you see the shallow swimming hahe issi the pronghorn antelope you identify with this striped sailfish skimming the surface a harpoon’s throw away from hungry nesters diving for the cereal great plains plankton seed visible but fast

I.The Secret Garden fooled the squash bugs by setting young plants in the center of piles of old weathered cedar shingles that i had dumped one truckload at a time around the perimeter of the woods out of sight of the house yet near enough to garner a hand of bucketful for kindling when the woodstove became december’s focus the shingle pile had flattened from firewood attrition and gravity so only a few layers remained no wild plants grew up through the shingles although a couple of hours of sunshine lit each pile each day i called it the secret garden because no one ever walks that way II.The Change the middle vegetable garden and the south garden (Vegetable River) have provided entertainment and food first the june-july drought scorched and stunted growth even with frequent watering then came the late july and august monsoons with a 65-70/85-90 mix almost every day the plants invigorated the bugs rebirthed the grasses skyrocketed from rock-hard drought to rainforest jungle i took a gas-powered weedeater into the Vegetable River delta yesterday whacked some high weeds on the periphery of the melon patch and uncovered two twenty-pound crimson sweets in another corner of the patch a crimson sweet was so ripe that it had cracked itself open sixty-five days after sticking the seed in the ground i was thrilled after three years of growing vines and stunted fruit i had finally grown big ripe melons III.August august gardening is by caesar certainly august the purple hulls the yellow-shelled cowpeas yellow and white okra blossoms all wash out in the intensity of <<green>> whelming <<green>> even on a cool morning or evening i come in from the search and harvest having had not the slightest perception of heat even with sweat drenching my forehead double-shirted long-sleeved against the reborn mosquitoes and realize only then how hot my body is the air is cool what created the heat? a perception narrows that more than heat and humidity are at play an intensity a swollen vibration more than the half-black over-ripe jalapenos more than the crisp prongs of okra pod more than the nutty crunch of raw cowpeas more than the fruitful tangle of kentucky wonder and morning glory smartweed vines more than white glistening corn smut blisters more than the biggest brightest-marked three-inch grasshoppers and cicadas that you’ve ever seen an intensity underlain in a crush of <<green>> an interplay a swollen vibration a chlorophylandering that even the dogs won’t come near no snakes no skinks no lizards too strong for spiders