Mowing, trimming, watering, pruning, and dead heading is the perfect way to spend a beautiful summer day. Okay, if youíre over fifty, itís a perfect way to spend a summer day. While I was mowing, I looked down to the lower yard and spotted my wife with a sprayer attached to her back. There was no mistaking it. She was on a death mission. Chemical warfare, her specialty and with Weed B-gone (her weapon of choice) sloshing about in the sprayer with every well placed step, she marched, misting all unwelcomed enemies sprouting in our yard.

I stopped mowing for a moment and watched. It made me proud to see her with such determination, not letting her sentimental feelings dissuade her from killing those menacing invaders. She and I both know these unsolicited intruders will take over and destroy what we have worked so hard to grow if we donít annihilate them along with their young.

I personally prefer the hand-to-hand combat - ripping them, one by one, out of their tight-fitting fox holes. I take great gratification as I wrap my fingers around their green thorny stems and give a pleasurable yank. The pure joy I experience as I hear their dangling roots being pried free from my soil fulfills my need for a God like power over my land. For Jan, this is way too personal. Sheís into aerial attack.

Witnessing Janís mass destruction caused by a singular pass, I started to have empathy for my sworn enemy. Obviously, Nature or God thought it a perfect placement to put these guys where they had taken root, a poisonous slime now coating there leafy flesh. This lapse of mental fortitude on my part was giving room for debate, which now was drawing battle lines within my head.

What Right do we have to kill these innocent sprouts?
Plenty of rights if we donít destroy them these ugly weeds will choke off our delicate plants!

How is it we get to determine their right to exist?
Itís our property we can do what we want!

Isnít it us who are changing the natural habitat therefore weíre the invaders?
Ya, so what!

And finally, whoís to say weeds arenít beautiful?
We do, damn it!

With this current internal conversation being waged, while my wife was diligently working completely oblivious of my moral struggle, I was left with one haunting thought. ďWho is the invader on the desert land I have worked so hard to convert to what it was never intended to be?Ē Damn weeds!

Sensing Iím losing the argument, I grunt, advert my eyes, and go back to lovingly, albeit uncomfortably, chopping the little heads off my weed free, irrigated green lawn.

Edited by earlybird (06/29/10 02:45 AM)
Balanced (My goal)

There is symmetry
In self-reflection
Life exemplified
Grace personified