I am an avid gardener. Which, during summer along the Gulf Coast, is to say that I am a tired and defeated weeder.
I have been thoroughly and roundly defeated by the shy plant and crabgrass.
They mock me in the slanted light of morning, knowing that they will thrive in the heat of day while I stare, helpless, from my air conditioned barracks.
When I do venture out in the not-cool-but-no-longer-searingly-hot evenings to wrestle what I can out of the soil, I can hear the survivors whisper,
"Do not consider yourself a victor for those of us you have taken. Each of the fallen will be replaced with three new invaders."
They're right; their seeds outnumber me a million to one and they know I won't use the only WMDs at my disposal because broad-spectrum herbicides are bad for all manner of life (including dogs and daughters and the frogs that sing to me from my porch).
And so I struggle to hold my ground while the weeds know that the war will go on for eons and my little patch of resistance will someday be theirs again.
I would delve deeper into the drama, but I have to go out and pull weeds.
I leave you with this piece of wisdom from another Floridian, whose writing makes me believe that he has felt my weedy woes:
"Crabgrass can grow on bowling balls in airless rooms, and there is no known way to kill it that does not involve nuclear weapons."
-Dave Barry
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Showing posts with label weed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weed. Show all posts
Monday, August 10, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Nature Quote - May 20, 2009 - On Weeds and Weeding
Funny thing, being a naturalist and a gardener. It means one half of me recognizes weeds and the other sees only wildflowers.
The gardener wants them gone and the naturalist refuses to use chemicals to do it. And that means that one half of me is constantly bent over pulling weeds (trying not to moon the neighbors too badly) while the other half questions her own sanity and the date of inevitable spinal collapse.
I try to pull 100 weeds a day, but I forget on most days and so end up pulling five or six hundred in one evening to catch up. Yesterday was just such an evening.
While Abbey scampered about, pulling as many weeds as her preschool attention would allow (about three at a time, with long tricycle breaks in between), I yanked out every pesky "volunteer" I could find. My back ached, my knees creaked, my nails filled up with dirt. . .and it was wonderful.
The sun was low and sparkling gold, the breeze ruffled the leaves of trees and blades of grass, and a simple peace settled over my daughter and me as if for just those few minutes, I knew without a doubt that we were in the right place, doing the right thing.
And we'll get to do it again:
"But make no mistake: the weeds will win; nature bats last." ~Robert M. Pyle
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
The gardener wants them gone and the naturalist refuses to use chemicals to do it. And that means that one half of me is constantly bent over pulling weeds (trying not to moon the neighbors too badly) while the other half questions her own sanity and the date of inevitable spinal collapse.
I try to pull 100 weeds a day, but I forget on most days and so end up pulling five or six hundred in one evening to catch up. Yesterday was just such an evening.
While Abbey scampered about, pulling as many weeds as her preschool attention would allow (about three at a time, with long tricycle breaks in between), I yanked out every pesky "volunteer" I could find. My back ached, my knees creaked, my nails filled up with dirt. . .and it was wonderful.
The sun was low and sparkling gold, the breeze ruffled the leaves of trees and blades of grass, and a simple peace settled over my daughter and me as if for just those few minutes, I knew without a doubt that we were in the right place, doing the right thing.
And we'll get to do it again:
"But make no mistake: the weeds will win; nature bats last." ~Robert M. Pyle
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
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