With the return of the warm weather (finally!) comes the
wonderful burst of color on trees and gardens everywhere. This is also when the
killing starts; the tons of weeds that lay dormant through the winter to make
their tall appearance the following Spring. I have already begun the yearly battle with
their kind with an arsenal that includes highly toxic liquids, sharp blades and
spinning machines. And then a strange thing happened to me the other day.
I felt bad about it.
After about an hour of ripping them from their roots out of
the ground with my hands, slicing them down to stubs with the lawn mower and
spraying them to a crisp, it suddenly occurred to me how much effort was
required to not actually kill them, just
to slow them down for a couple of weeks. Weeds had, in that moment, gone from
being a big nuisance to the most resilient and hardest to kill life form I
think I’ve ever encountered (besides people who chain-smoke; holes in their
throat, fingers amputated, wheeling around an oxygen tank with one hand and smoking a cigarette with the other.. God
bless ‘em). Meanwhile the occasional plants I hesitantly decide to take care of
usually wilt and die despite whatever time and attention I pay them. My kids
and I once came home from Home Depot with flower seeds, soil and baskets to
hang on either side of our front door. Not only did the flowers not bloom very
well or not last long if they did, within a month or so weeds were happily
growing within the elevated, hanging
pots! In retrospect that was quite amazing; it’s as if plants were Mother
Nature’s promise that life will always survive on this planet, and that weeds
are the multi-colored enforcers of that promise. I mean there are pretty ugly
weeds that look like you meant to
haphazardly plant dozens of flat little cabbage heads all over your lawn, and
ones that actually flower and produce beautifully colored petals of every imaginable
hue. I think back to the “flowers” my siblings and I picked in the park near our
home that I now realize were nothing more than pretty weeds.
And then there is the Hairy Bittercress. Although it sounds like a British euphemism
for troubled female genitalia, it’s actually an ingenious weed that absolutely promises
future generations of itself with spring-loaded tiny seed projectiles that
burst out at the slightest disturbance. I was walking through our backyard once
checking for any pine cones or other foreign objects that could wreak havoc on
the lawn mower blade, when I noticed a spraying of little yellowish grains half
a step ahead of my pace. I got down on my hands and knees and discovered this
ingenious form of seeding that was occurring every time I, anyone or anything
moved through the backyard. I also realized that by using the lawnmower to at
least visually mend our weeds issues, I was also literally and unwittingly planting
the seeds for future weeds. I was so impressed and fascinated by this example
of Mother Nature’s Plan and its execution that I actually spent the next few
minutes passing my hand over these weeds and watching their seeds explode in
all directions like tiny fireworks and disappear into the grass. My wife Sofia
thought something was wrong what with me lying in the grass like that; she
yanked open the kitchen window and yelled out to me. My inner nerd proceeded to
excitedly tell her about my new discovery but way before I could finish, her
eyes had narrowed into cat-like slits of anti-nerd armor, as she slowly closed
the window to drown out my talking. I got right back down into the grass.
I’ve since noticed weeds growing
out of soil-less cracks in cement, sides of buildings, appear in the afternoon
where there was only grass in the morning, and generally defy efforts to
permanently eliminate them. Not only was it a war I wasn’t winning, it had
become a war not worth waging. Fighting against Mother Nature? Really? Is that
something I want on my life-resume when I also love flowers, trees and the
smell of grass? I mean I can’t just let the weeds ruin the back or front yards,
I do still have to act against them, but I’m doing it with a different mindset.
Knowing that I can’t really kill them, I’m no longer trying to. There are
certain areas of our property that we do not frequent or do not lend themselves
to any real use. I will let the weeds grow longer there, because it’s
interesting to see the variety that spontaneously make their appearance from
year to year.
I don’t think there is any better
way to glimpse the mechanics of God and Nature than to peer through a telescope
at the night sky or to plant a seed in some soil and observe the results unfold
over time. So who am I to not allow Nature to take up residency in our front or
backyard?
Hairy Bittercress’ are welcome in our house.
