**( The Diamond Garden is a poetic exploration of the Diavik Diamond Mine in NWT. I had an opportunity to spend a six-week period there in April/May of 2020 due to the most peculiar set of circumstances… My usual work involves tourism and science in the polar regions, both of which had been through total upheavals, like most things in 2020–Dave Allcorn )**

The Diamond Garden…

What exactly is a sweet potato?
Well, that’s a great question.
It’s a dicotyledonous herbaceous perennial vine with an edible tuber. It’s a member of the convolvulaceae (morning glory) family and its taxonomic binomial is Ipomoea batatas. In the order of solanales, it has four unranked clades – asterid, eudicot, angiosperm, and tracheophyte. You’ll find it within the Kingdom of the Plants…

Holes…

They were invisible to us…
But there were holes.
Giant holes, twinkling with gems.
Deep tunnels spiralling downward
Resplendent with jewels…

There were mounds
Huge mounds, horizon-high with sparkles.
Looming dull and dreary
Shattered rocks…

Sharp and bleak…
There were monsters.
Giant monsters patrolling day and night.

Rumbles, growls.
Screams and howls.

Thunder in the holes…

Cucurbita pepo, Capsicum annuum, Daucus carota, Allium cepa, Phaseolas vulgaris, Solanum tuberosum, Solanum lycopersicum, Zea mays, and Raphanus sativum. I will slice you and dice you! Your insides will be removed and your slaughtered carcasses will be cast into a sterile bucket. You will be dismantled and smashed with murderous intent. I will devour you, I’ll feast upon your tattered remains and tear you into countless pieces. All of your mutilated limbs will be tortured as they rot in piles of bones.
Aryza sativa, you have nothing to worry about…

For now that is…

I hate you.
I love you.
I want you.
Actually, that’s not true!

Pipes…

There were pipes…
Miles and miles of pipes
Straight lines of pipes
Pipes in the corridors,
Pipes of the Industrial Walkways.

Metal pipes, plastic pipes
Connections, joins.
Water pipes, sewage pipes, glycol pipes
Upward and downward.

There were many, many pipes…
From dorm to kitchen.
Pipes along every hallway.

Pipes around corners.
Pipes leading the way.

There were many pipes…

It’s not broccoli! It’s broccolini, there’s a difference. If you want more details about the Botrytis cultivar versus the Italia cultivar, then let’s start with Brassica oleraceae, and all the cabbages for that matter… In fact, let’s dissect and mangle all cabbages, and scatter their filthy leaves and festering inflorescent meristems to the hopeless depths of a plastic sea.
And they’re not trees! In a fairytale world perhaps, but not this world.

People…

They were walking. The people.
All of the people. They emerged.
A camera… ‘Stand closer.’
‘Thirty-six point one degrees Celsius.’
‘Next person please…’

Follow the arrows.
Tape, directions, where?
Express lane only! Stop line… Wait…

“Do you have your card?”
“Yes. It’s all up to date.”
“Thank you. Wash your hands please.”

Tea, coffee, muffins, brownies.
Cereal, eggs and yogurt, fruit.

Another coffee. Perhaps?

On the subject of coffee.
It’s the seed of Coffea arabica. Often called a bean, this is incorrect. It is a seed.
One could suggest that having a cup of coffee is akin to having a hot, liquid salad.
One could call the plant a tree – one would be pushing the limits of what depicts a tree, however. If epigynous berries or indehiscent drupes are part of your fantasies, then the family of Rubiaceae and the tribe of Coffeeae would be for you?

Place…

It is the strangest place.
A man-made rockscape in the barrens.
Stark piles and industrial structures.
It has a calm yet strange vibe.
I like it here.

The windows look upon the vast, snow-covered tundra.
Wind-drifted snow on the shores of frozen lakes.
The outside is beautiful.
I only see it from the window.

The wild outside stands silent as its insides are removed.
The rocks have no thoughts, no ignorance, no arguments.
The rocks are everyone’s friend.

The rocks are innocent…
All of the rocks.

The rocks are true.

Plates…

And there were plates… So many plates.
More plates than you can count.
Piles of plates. Stacks on racks…

“Good evening”
“Ya, I’ll have some of those”
“The broccoli-cauliflower mix?”
“Ya… And some of that”
“The rice or the potatoes?”
“Ya.”
“Potatoes.”
“Is that enough?”
“More… More… Some more… Another scoop… A bit more…”
“Would you like some chicken?”
“Ya.”
“How many pieces?”
“Three… No four… Five… Make it six… One more.”
“Would you like some fish?”
“Ya. Four pieces… One more… Put four more pieces on a paper plate.”
“Anything else?”
“I’ll have some meat sauce in a bowl…”
“One scoop?”
“Fill it right to the top.”
“Is that all?”
“I’ll have a plate of French fries.”
“Would you like another scoop?”
“Ya. Keep going… More… A few more… Ya.”
“Is that everything?”
“Ya. Thank you.”
“Have a great evening.”
“Ya.”

“Do you have any bread?”

These were the people.
Hundreds of hungry people…
Everyone was beautiful…

Beautiful people shining like stars.
Twinkling like gems…

Diamonds…

Are diamonds stars?
Are we the diamonds?
Are we the stars?
I believe we are…
Who are we?

The diamonds are our friends.
The pipes are all real.
The holes are all true.
And so are all the people…

From Xanthoria euphoria to diamond dust,
This is what the holes did.
The pipes did it too.

I never did find any diamonds…
No stars…

But I did find a friend…

Truth…

In reality, the holes didn’t do anything. Nor did the pipes. Something else did it.
The holes are all true, as are all the pipes, but they didn’t do anything… What did?
As a gem searcher, I will surely find it – the truth that is. But ‘true’ and ‘truth’ are not the same… Let’s face it, broccoli and cabbage are not the same, but, botanically, one could argue.
I won’t argue though, because I think they are both true.
Everything in this garden is true.

Why did I think this?
How did it happen?
Was it for my friends?
My friends among the lichen labyrinth
The mosaic on the tundra

Polytrichum juniperitum,
Rhizocarpon geographicum
Arctopermelia centrifuga
Cladina rangiferina

The spiralled design
The structured web
The carpet.

The fairytale or the fantasy?
Which one is my true friend?

Can they both be?