Quotes with subdued

Inspirational quotes with subdued.

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The more serious about gardening I became, the more dubious lawns seemed. The problem for me was not, as it was for my father, the relation to my neighbors that a lawn implied; it was the lawn’s relationship to nature. For however democratic a lawn may be with respect to one’s neighbors, with respect to nature it is authoritarian. Under the mower’s brutal indiscriminate rotor, the landscape is subdued, homogenized, dominated utterly. I became convinced that lawn care had about as much to do with gardening as floor waxing, or road paving. Gardening was a subtle process of give and take with the landscape, a search for some middle ground between culture and nature. A lawn was nature under culture’s boot.Mowing the lawn, I felt like I was battling the earth rather than working it; each week it sent forth a green army and each week I beat it back with my infernal machine. Unlike every other plant in my garden, the grasses were anonymous, massified, deprived of any change or development whatsoever, not to mention any semblance of self-determination. I ruled a totalitarian landscape.Hot monotonous hours behind the mower gave rise to existential speculations. I spent part of one afternoon trying to decide who, in the absurdist drama of lawn mowing, was Sisyphus. Me? A case could certainly be made. Or was it the grass, pushing up through the soil every week, one layer of cells at a time, only to be cut down and then, perversely, encouraged (with fertilizer, lime, etc.) to start the whole doomed process over again? Another day it occurred to me that time as we know it doesn’t exist in the lawn, since grass never dies or is allowed to flower and set seed. Lawns are nature purged of sex and death. No wonder Americans like them so much.

From my new WIP, Behind the Fan. “Come with me.” His breath is warm; his lips lightly touch her ear, it gives her a delicious tingle. This seduction is no accident.“Baby we can be anywhere, we will start new. Dottie, all I need is you.”She opens her eyes, he turns when he feels the flutter of her lashes. She expects another plea instead; he kisses her. Soft and slow his lips pulling her down deeper into a sweet chasm. This assault on her proprieties will be slow and subdued. He has after all proven that he is a patient man. Those musicians’ finger will trail on the column of her neck first. The touch is warm, soft nevertheless deliberate. Do the top buttons of her blouse come undone on their own accord or has he banished them? She is never sure but before she can register the affect, he lightly strokes the swell of her breast. It is sinful; no matter how often she confesses her weakness to the priest, she is never stronger. Her body willingly betrays her; she will roam her hands down his back, beyond the tapered waist to the hard orbs of his backside. She herself is no innocent, she revels in his plead for more. She is going to hell she wished she cared for her soul.“Honey leap with me, we will land safely I promise you.”“Oh God, Nicky you know it is never this simple.”Nick leans back enough to look into her eyes; she feels he can see damn near to her soul. She prays he will stay but knows her appeal is futile. He feels colder already, it does not matter how she tries to hold on he is already leaving. Leaving her behind.



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