Inside me lays the seed of life, my own life. Buried away beneath the darkness of the soils weight. Awaiting to blossom, awaiting it's nourishment, and for its protection. But the skill of the gardener must be taught, mentored, in order for that seed to have an enriched fate.

Many gardens are beautiful and admired for its ritches, for the seeds have grown tall and are full of life and colour. But for the gardens who's carer doesn't take note of the weeds underneath.., They will slowly diminish those flowers, until you are left with just weeds and none other.

All that was beautiful has now vanished beyond sight. And all that is left is shame, guilt, and a garden of black. The gardener blames himself, for surely... He should have known better? But he was never taught the skills of a master gardener. It's not his fault for that.

He slowly pulls the weeds, one by one, day by day. Restoring his soils foundation and laying his new seeds as he works. It takes him months, years even to restore his gardens former glory. But armed with the knowledge and tools for fight those relentless weeds, he is able to defend his beautiful garden, and becomes the master gardener, and the writer of his own success story.