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The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that i loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry california october nights unmatched anywhere in the world.

-Jack Kerouac

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The Yard Was Full Of Tomato Plants

Jack Kerouac

The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that i loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry california october nights unmatched anywhere in the world.

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    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"the yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that i loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry california october nights unmatched anywhere in the world."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Jack Kerouac</footer>
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Night California Perfect

More From Jack Kerouac

Cool is spent. cool is empty. cool is ex post facto. when advertisers and pundits hoard a word, you know it's time to retire from it. to move on. i want to suggest, therefore, that we begin to avoid cool now. cool is a trick to get you to buy garments made by sweatshop laborers in third world countries. cool is the triumph of the will. cool enables you to step over bodies. cool enables you to look the other way. cool makes you functional, eager for routine distraction, passive, doped, stupid.

Stock up your pantry and your freezer with things that aren't perishable: your favorite jar of tomato sauce that lists "tomato" as the first ingredient, lots of grains, olive oils, vinegars, tomato pastes, onions, shallots. when you go to the store, you only have to pick up meats and produce.

My life is routine. i wake up early in the morning. i brush my teeth. i sit on the floor of the cell i do not go to breakfast. i stare at a gray cement wall. i keep my legs crossed my back straight my eyes forward. i take deep breaths in and out, in and out, and i try not to move. i sit for as long as i can i sit until everything hurts i sit until everything stops hurting i sit until i lose myself in the gray wall i sit until my mind becomes as blank as the gray wall. i sit and i stare and i breathe. i sit and i stare. i breathe.

Leaves are usually looked upon as the children of the tree. yes, they are children of the tree, born from the tree, but they are also mothers of the tree. the leaves combine raw sap, water, and minerals, with sunshine and gas, and convert it into a variegated sap that can nourish the tree. in this way, the leaves become the mother of the tree. we are all children of society, but we are also mothers. we have to nourish society. if we are uprooted from society, we can not trasform it into a more liveable place for us and our children.

Do you know that even when you look at a tree and say, `that is an oak tree', or `that is a banyan tree', the naming of the tree, which is botanical knowledge, has so conditioned your mind that the word comes between you and actually seeing the tree? to come in contact with the tree you have to put your hand on it and the word will not help you to touch it.

Sometimes i come across a tree which seems like buddha or jesus: loving, compassionate, still, unambitious, enlightened, in eternal meditation, giving pleasure to a pilgrim, shade to a cow, berries to a bird, beauty to its surroundings, health to its neighbors, branches for the fire, leaves for the soil, asking nothing in return, in total harmony with the wind and the rain. how much can i learn from a tree? the tree is my church, the tree is my temple, the tree is my mantra, the tree is my poem and my prayer.

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