I am convinced: weeds have intelligence. Those pesky, long stemmed, yellow weeds talk amongst themselves as the mower approaches. “Lie down, she’s coming,” they say. I want to knock them down like a machete wielding madwoman, but when I look behind the mower, I see them laughing and dancing in the sunshine. How do they do that? If I were run over by a giant rotating blade I would be cut to shreds to lie bleeding on the ground.

Another thing: how do weeds know how to disguise themselves and grow near desirable plants, intertwining roots, taking advantage of shade and available water? What I thought was a healthy, fast growing astilbe turned out to be, on closer inspection, a struggling shrub surrounded by thistles. From a distance the leaves looked exactly the same. Horticulturists say that weeds grow in conditions similar to the plants they emulate. But what about horses tail among the carrots, or buttercups under the radishes? On the other hand, dandelions have evolved to be the bullies of the weed world. They grow anywhere without trying to hide. Maybe it’s better when weeds try to fit in. At least from the surface everything is beautiful.


Weeds Run Amok

About dmdubay

Since retiring from Northwest Airlines and moving to the Pacific Northwest, I have more time to devote to writing. My first novel, "Tales of Two Sisters" was published over a year ago. I have been writing poetry for a long time and am attempting to collate my poetry into a short book, with pictures. A sequel to "Tales of Two Sisters" should be getting closer to completion soon. Gardening and tending the vineyard take a lot of time in the summer. Even though I love the outdoors, these activities do cut down on my writing. So I appreciate that wintertime allows me time to write. Writing, for me, is what brings things into focus and helps me to make sense of the things that life brings. It is a gift to me and I hope that it will be to you also.
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