Rocks: Quarry: Magma Pot

The greatest acts of creation can be the messiest. Look at birth.  I continue making rocks, and while they're not up there with birth or with God's rocks, they're pretty fine. The picture above is of my dedicated rock pot with another rock blurping like oatmeal in it. It used to be last Sunday's NYT Classified Section.   The pulp has excreted some oily red ink, and if I hadn't watched "Dexter" last night (for the first and last time), it probably wouldn't look quite so appalling to me. 

This batch is dedicated to the rock that will hold up the paraphernalia (pump, vessel, tubing, electrical wire) for the water that will trickle out of a verdigris covered-length of drainpipe and into a hidden basin with a sweet, echoing sound, like the water deep under a gutter grate that you hear late at night while you're walking your dog along a quiet street.  And all this in the ugly corner where the refrigerator used to be. . . .

[If you scroll down, you can see some pictures of the first rocks to get hot-glued to the wall.]

The Green Fuse?

 I await an explanation for the hardiness of my sedum and parsley (previous post) from some all-knowing botanist who---mirable dictu!---descends on my blog.  Meanwhile, as I rake in the garden, I'm thinking of a line from Dylan Thomas--"The force that through the green fuse drives the flower" (from the eponymous poem).  Maybe there's something particular about the living force of them that protects the sedum and parsley from freezing? 

This train of thought doesn't seem promising. I wish it were, because, wouldn't that be wonderful?

How?

I walked around the garden this morning to rev myself up and perhaps to start raking and burning. There was still a sparkle of frost on the dead sticks and leaves. Everything in sight was dead, except for:

and

The sedum cutting I stuck in the crack of an old stump two years ago is growing. The parsley that's frozen and thawed a hundred times over the winter is growing.  Neither the stump crack nor the few dead leaves are enough to insulate them from the frost. And if I picked them and put them into the freezer, they'd freeze and then thaw into mush.

How can this be, damnit?