I was thinking the same thing Elaine said. I think that gardeners must have been the original colonial imperialists.
No matter how much space we have, we fill it. Full!
Then, like weeds, we start to encroach on nearby yards ...
David, just once I had the chance to walk around some redwoods. They had a very potent feeling that was like a cathedral or synagog or mosque. A really, really, REALLY holy cathedral or synagog or mosque.
As a kid, religious services in churches often did not seem very special to me. Then, at some Boy Scout camp-out, they happened to bring in a priest on a Sunday for the Catholic boys. It was totally ad hoc and amateur-hour. He balanced a flimsy card table on some uneven terrain in a small, partly open space amongst the trees.
Then, suddenly, the Sun, the silence, the trees, breaths of breeze and occasional birdsong turned into a jaw-dropping Holy Presence of Something. Nature, Yahveh, Jehovah or whatever - I don't pretend to know that kind of detail - the divine Presence in that woody clearing made cleawr what religious services try to accomplish.
I guess that was off-topic.
