Late afternoon sequestration in the garden has the aspect of subdued quietude appropriate to those of advanced age, declining zeal and settled enterprise. Indeed it is so. And I say this without immodesty or temporizing. It as an unsurpassable mien as natural as the balmy summer air, as uncalculated as a soothing sense of accommodation and accomplishment. Once having molded one’s carcass into the lounge chair, facing directly into the disinfecting western sky, projecting the limbs to unfurl the deteriorating spine, removing the spectacles and quelling one’s overall demeanour, the anodyne produces a state of indisputable serenity and lubricates unrestrained imagination. From this heady atmosphere flourishes a curious and barely perceptible descent to fundamentals.
The essentials of existence are shelter, food, clothing. Whatever else may be added to those primitive features is by way of ornament – the floating debris surrounding the barque upon the sea. The embellishment cannot however afford nourishment without more profound materiality. Reflecting as is my wont upon the past, upon the present and upon the future strengthens my idleness. What price for the transport to date? What’s missing? What more could I want? What more could I need?
I am unprepared to relinquish immersion in the trifles of humanity. As long as I have an appetite I shall pursue its indulgent satisfaction. By unwitting translation I have synthesized all that I have had and done into the blend that swirls about me. My incorrigible arrogance convinces me of the sanctity of my devotion. A lifetime of accumulation is incrementally distilled. Oh, with what delectation I account my fortune!