Tending a garden

At the end of Candide, the demoralised hero and his surviving destroyed companions turn to tending their garden. And so I shall sneak out of the Slough for half an hour and buy flowers and plant my roof garden.

The roof garden where we used to sit and drink prosecco in the gathering gloom, the opera playing and the candles flickering and the conversation flowing slowly towards bedtime, the garden below disappearing into darkness. I will sit in the roof garden in bright sunlight, in the best of all possible worlds. For Candide did not realise that the possibilities are narrowly restricted and best is very much a relative term.


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