There's a piece of gardener's doggerel that ends with the lines,
"one is closer to God in a garden
than anywhere else on earth."
Most of the time I am happy enough to believe this. However, I have just spent the morning raking moss out of my lawn, which now looks like the battlefield at Passchendaele. As far as I can figure out, the only possible connection between this activity and the Almighty is expiation.
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