THE idea of One Hundred Years of Solitude might have caught the imagination of Gabriel García Márquez, but, for most folk, in these days of Twitter (never used it), TikTok (never looked at it) and Instagram (finally gave in and began posting gardening snippets in 2021; @alantitchmarshmbe should you be curious) the prospect of solitude is remote. Whether through more traditional print and broadcast media or Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp and... oh, you name it, society in general now feels the need to be constantly connected to the activities and opinions of others. Except, that is, for gardeners and writers who are accustomed to and revel in working alone.
As I tap out these words in the loft of the barn just across the way from our house, I hear nothing more than the ticking of clocks (it's a weakness my wife has learned to tolerate). Not for me the accompaniment of music or the incessant chatter of the radio; I enjoy the sound of the birds, which can be heard through the open window, but the barn where I write, next to our wildlife pond, has become a space that I increasingly find brings me solace when the incessant babble of the wider world has drowned out peace of mind and what few original thoughts might have entered my head.
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