Weeding is Thankless
A reflection on time spent in nature
A reflection on time spent in nature
It was a lazy rainy morning, because a rainy morning couldn’t be much of anything else. Typically the last thing on my mind would be actually trekking out into the rain to do yard work. Somehow something got me out in the rain, after all the weeds will come up much easier from the soft wet ground.
Gardening gloves in hand I ventured to our large veggie garden. Tomatillos, peppers, onions, lettuce, potatoes and kale; all suffocating at the hands of menacing weeds.
Marbled purplish–blue Dragon's Tongue beans swam around the rustic tepee trellis poked their noses out of the overgrowth for a taste of sunlight. Teensy cucumbers, nearly ready for pickling, hid beneath the overgrowth. In the distance I saw the delicate fluffy greens of carrot tops pressed to the earth under the weight of raindrops. Funny how during spring seed planting I never thought about how hard it could be to differentiate the good plants from the weeds. Thankfully once the garden had a chance to mature the fruit–bearing plants were much more apparent.
I dove in, pulling weeds left and right, tossing them over the critter fence. Soon my gloves were completely soaked and my flip-flops had just about tripled in weight with packed on mud. What better solution than to toss them all aside? Without barriers I was up to my elbows in mud and drenched soil mushed between my toes. Delighted with the silky smooth mud and cooling rain, my tendency for being girly and squeamish vanished. Wiping unruly hair out of my face with mud–covered hands led to a mud–covered face and lots in my hair. All at once I felt one with the earth. My typical fears of encounters with creepy crawly and slithery beings nearly vanished. I had no idea getting muddy and grubby could be so cleansing.
Gardening gloves in hand I ventured to our large veggie garden. Tomatillos, peppers, onions, lettuce, potatoes and kale; all suffocating at the hands of menacing weeds.
Marbled purplish–blue Dragon's Tongue beans swam around the rustic tepee trellis poked their noses out of the overgrowth for a taste of sunlight. Teensy cucumbers, nearly ready for pickling, hid beneath the overgrowth. In the distance I saw the delicate fluffy greens of carrot tops pressed to the earth under the weight of raindrops. Funny how during spring seed planting I never thought about how hard it could be to differentiate the good plants from the weeds. Thankfully once the garden had a chance to mature the fruit–bearing plants were much more apparent.
I dove in, pulling weeds left and right, tossing them over the critter fence. Soon my gloves were completely soaked and my flip-flops had just about tripled in weight with packed on mud. What better solution than to toss them all aside? Without barriers I was up to my elbows in mud and drenched soil mushed between my toes. Delighted with the silky smooth mud and cooling rain, my tendency for being girly and squeamish vanished. Wiping unruly hair out of my face with mud–covered hands led to a mud–covered face and lots in my hair. All at once I felt one with the earth. My typical fears of encounters with creepy crawly and slithery beings nearly vanished. I had no idea getting muddy and grubby could be so cleansing.
