做个快乐的采集者

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不少人陶醉于园艺之乐，看着自己亲手栽培的花草树木或者瓜果蔬菜长势喜人，总会有种满满的幸福感和满足感。但也有人拙于园艺，却又固执地爱着那片园子，因为那里有着无穷的乐趣和惊喜，就像鲁迅先生笔下的百草园，等待着一颗闲适的心和一双善于发现的眼睛……

I am a horrible gardener. I try to blame my repeated 1）dearth of tomatoes on Wisconsin’s short growing season， but it’s more due to the fact that I do not like fences. Each year I set out the largest seedlings I can find as early as I can， only to see their leaves lopped off by some hungry 2）critter the first week of June. Then I watch them play catchup all summer， a race of frost against fruit.

I don’t even 3）shoo away my own dog. When the tomatoes finally do appear， she picks them alongside me with her jowls， lofts them in the air， jumps on them where they land， and then， when they don’t jump back， loses interest. She shoulders through cucumber plants so crowded the cucumbers are white as cave crickets under the shade of the leaves until she is virtually harnessed to the vines. She disappears into the 4）raspberry bush and digs a hole there to cool off.

I forget to 5）stake peas. They climb up the garden hose I have attached to a sprinkler on a pipe， and later， suffer when I need to use the hose for something else， and slide it out of its sleeve of pea plant， which falls over like a vegetative cyclone. I plant whole rows of seeds that never appear， leaving a strange gap in the middle of my garden as if the three sisters on one side―the corn， beans and 6）squash―have drawn a line down the middle of their bedroom， at odds with the strangling cucumbers and struggling peppers and tomatoes on the other.

Despite my low 7）aptitude， I spend a lot of time in the garden examining the weeds I pull up， finding， once， a song sparrow’s nest full of eggs， and many times toads and shiny blister beetles and glacier-smoothed stones and artifacts of nails and barbed wire from the barn that used to stand on my garden plot.

I pick what grows and don’t fret too much over what doesn’t. I think often about what I should have done， what I will do next year but inevitably don’t， because here is the truth. I would rather be a gatherer than a gardener. I prefer even the language of gathering. I would rather roam and wander， discover and remember than plan， 8）till， plant， thin， stake， weed， water， tend and 9）prune. I have five million years of hunting and gathering in my brain that 10，000 years of agriculture can’t knock out of me. Thus I sew my hybrid passion. A garden as 10）unruly as a forest edge， a place where like my dog and the deer and the rabbits I know must 11）traverse there. I can disappear in the 12）unbridled 13）foliage， and maybe， just maybe， come out with something to sustain me.

我是个不称职的园丁。我试图将番茄的屡次不产归咎于威斯康辛那短暂的生长季节，但真正的原因在于我不喜欢在园子围篱笆。每年我总是找来最大的幼苗，早早地种植在菜园里。结果，在六月的第一个星期就眼睁睁看着它们的叶子被某只饥肠辘辘的动物啃去。接着，整个夏天，我看着它们“你追我赶”地生长着，仿佛都想赶在霜冻来临之前结出果实。

我甚至也不嘘声赶走我的狗。当番茄果实最终结出时，她在我身旁用下颚摘下果实，将其高高抛向空中，待果实“着陆”后，冲过去跳上跳下的，发现它们并没像她一样跳起，便失去了兴趣。黄瓜果实累累，在叶子的衬托下白花花如穴螽。她用肩膀推开黄瓜前进，直到她被密集的瓜藤绕得几乎脱不了身。她消失在覆盆子丛中，在里面挖了个洞来乘凉。

我忘记给豌豆搭支架，它们爬上了我装在水管洒水装置上的花园软管。当我要用软管时，它们就遭罪了。我将软管从豆藤形成的“袖子”中抽出，豆藤“哗”地散落下来，像一场植物形成的旋风。我播种了好几排从不生长的种子，因此在菜园中间留下一片突兀的空地，看起来就像在一边的三姐妹――玉米、大豆和南瓜――在房间中间画了一条“三八线”，与另一边缠缠绕绕的黄瓜、挣扎着生长的辣椒和番茄显得格格不入。

尽管天资愚笨，我还是花了大量的时间在菜园里。我会观察的杂草，有一次发现了一个装满蛋的歌雀窝，好几次找到蟾蜍、亮闪闪的斑蝥、被冰川打磨光滑的石头，还有谷仓的钉子和带刺铁丝网这些人工制品（我的菜园以前曾被用作谷仓）。

我摘下长出的果实，并不过于担忧那些不结果的植物。我经常思考自己本应该要做什么事，明年又该做什么事（但肯定不会做），因为事实是这样的：我宁愿做采集者而非园丁。我更喜欢采集的语言。我情愿闲逛漫游，去发现，去记忆，也不愿计划、耕作、种植、间苗、搭架、除草、浇水、照管和修剪。五百万年的狩猎采集经验在我脑海中根深蒂固，区区一万年的农业史根本无法替代。因此，我怀着并不纯粹的热情去播种。我的菜园如同森林的边缘一样无序，这是一个我的狗狗、野鹿以及兔子必定会横跨的地方。我可以消失在疯长的作物中，或许，仅仅是或许，带着能使我生存下去的东西回来。