The garden, upon moving in, was rather… what’s the right word? Wild. It was a forest and a jungle… let me explain.
Along the side of the house, there is a dark and mysterious path leading from the garden to the road. When you walk into the garden one way or another, you are struck by a jungle. Green masses fill every dainty flowerbed, overflowing as waterfalls and mists onto the once-was path for walking, where big brown and black leather feet trod, with big wooden cigars and swagger sticks.
The times of leather boots have, however, passed. The jungle is now ruled ferociously with kings and queen lions. Their fights heard far and wide, claws, teeth and blood are no uncommon sight in this brutal, forgotten land.
All was to fight for and to win.
A new big boot enters the land. It was not leather, it was a crown piper. It trod lightly and looked upon everything with fresh eyes, no longer longing for little green pieces of paper. Instead, she longed for new growth, a new story for the jungle, providing beauty and order to it all.
Beyond the jungle, at the back end of the garden, there was a not-so-forgotten forest. There, fairies and gnomes had done their jobs. In the groves of the dark trees, stood small sprouting flowers. At the very end, there were stones, providing shelter for gnome, fairy and snail alike.
However, the truth of the woodland shall not be held secret. Beneath the old forest floor, lays the reminiscence of what would of been an old and barren industrialised land. The soil remains a tangy pink, the rumours and tails of what that was from are many.
The Crown Piper catches a tiger unawares.
“Ah, a human!” The lioness stops in her tracks. “I may win her over,” she said and rolled over on her tummy, looking as irresistibly cute as she could.
“I shall call you Lola,” said the Crown Piper.
“Lola? Never have I been so offended! I am the queen of the jungle, the ruler, the emperor! Never shall I except such a soft-sounding name,” she answered back, standing up from having been rolling around.
“You must not rule! How do you like the blood which is shed day after day on this very ground? I can assure you that if you all cooperated, there would be a lot less,” The Crown Piper said.
“The sacrifice of few, for the wealth of the few, or the sacrifice of all for the wealth of none? That is how I see the situation from my green eyes,” she said, and held her tail high, tossing her mane.
“There will be no sacrifice from cooperation. The essence of cooperation is that everyone gets along well, and there can be none wrong with that,” said the Crown Piper, kneeling down.
“Well, then, going by your speculation, however, will we decide who gets the dead mouse. It cannot be simply divided; there is only so much of it and the best bits are miniature,” Lola said.
“Well, then we decide who is hungrier. Who ate more food last meal? In the case of no preference, we can make it randomised, until there is enough evidence from before about who deserves it the most. We can all make sure we have our fair share by stopping one if they have too much, but not taking too much because you yourself will be stopped,” The Crown Piper said, and, by 3 days time of intensive NVC (nonviolent communication) training, and convergent facilitation classes, followed up by real life self-organising systems including bottom up structures, a new garden (no longer wild, dangerous jungle) was formed.
Violence, hierarchy and monarchism were out the window.
The true story of the garden is inevitably different. It started off containing lots of weeds in a flower-bed-to-be, and contained a lot of big rocks and a few trees at the back. It isn’t as big as it seemed.
I’m planning on making the “jungle” area into flowerbeds/growing food and the “woodland” area into a pond with flowers.