Shrey solanki

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Every so often I like to read something that's completely outside my competence zone -- after all, it's the best way to learn something new. With this in mind, I'm reading The Education of a Gardener by Russell Page, originally published in 1962 and brought back into print in 2007 by NYRB Classics. Page (1906-1985) was a world-class garden designer with a career spanning nearly six decades, and in this book, he embarks on a sort of mental tour of the gardens that struck him as particularly lovely and/or well-adapted to their settings. It's beautifully written, with an astonishing eye for detail (Page originally trained as a painter), and above all, it's relaxed -- a word I mean as high praise. So much of life now revolves around a deluge of information, with sensory assaults ever increasing and attention spans ever shortening. To indulge in a book like this one, whose pace is set solely by the rhythms of the natural world, makes for an escape of the very best kind.

Nobody talks about how strange it is that we're all living completely different lives at the exact same time.