The Hairy Bittercress

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.