Steven Colby: potter

I’ve been slogging thru Doris Kearns Goodwin’s excellent Team of Rivals.  It’s a fascinating read and better than the hype and coincidance that has been surrounding it.

I took a break from it last night and cracked open Jerzy Kosinski’s little novel, Being There.  I thought I’d share this early passage:

And yet, with all it’s life, even at the peak of it’s bloom, the garden was it’s own graveyard.  Under every tree and bush lay rotten trunks and disintegrated and decomposing roots.  It was hard to know which was more important: the garden’s surface or the graveyard from which it grew and into which it was constantly lapsing.