Lost and Found in E11

Field Study's Man in E11 traverses the allotment via 'The Wormholes of Ceres' and recreates a plot of  wriggling viccissitudes and muddy factoids.  Earthworm casting - 22/2/15 I was abandoned in the remote and adipose constellation of, ‘The Humming Garden of Vulpecula’. I have no idea how long I languished there in the putrefaction of its mushy science fiction. I assume I was there to study the cosmic significance of the decaying field of a buried fox. While I was immersed in that field, ambiguities of time and temporality – of Chronos and Kairos – played on my mind. I think they still are. It is possible I became a subject of study by mysterious forces acting through the reservoir of the vulpine corpse. It is a sad fact and an equally sad fiction that I am a character issued forth from the mind of Julian Beere. Had I been out of the mind of, say, Stanislaw Lem, I, Field Study’s Man in E11, could be, instead, ‘Dr. Kris Kelvin’, from the novel, ‘Solaris’.  

Field Studies Man in E11 engages his half-boiled vegetable matter in a propagational dilemma, and indulges in his manurial preoccupations yet again.  Time was when we could sow broad beans directly into the soil and witness their glorious springtime emergence. This winter has seen our beans disappear from our raised beds well before that welcome leafy transformation. Where have they gone? Who or what has taken the beans? Our suspicions lay with the mice because of the precision, thoroughness and neatness of the excavations. The delicate shell like remains of beans lay on the surface by regimented holes and, occasionally, a dismembered bean sprout or two. The remains have caused grave expressions and vengeful glances towards where the little ones might be hiding. Row upon row has been plundered.   How many mice are there that might have caused such consistent damage? If not a plague then indeed we may be afflicted by a very nasty bout of mice. As our broad beans dig