Let the Weeds Ring Out!

What made me feel alive this week? Weeds. Yes, weeds.

In spring they come forth—from everywhere. Between cracks in the pavement. Between gaps in the rockery. Among seedlings in the garden. In corners of pots. From everywhere comes the wonderful, verdant, riotous uplifting of life unrestrained.

I have three acres in the country and many gardens. When I first moved here from the city, I saw weeds as soldiers in an invading army. I wanted manicured gardens. All that changed. Why? I changed.

I love that everything is alive and wants, fights, to live. I love the wild energy of weeds. And the bees do too. They make honey from their flowers. We chose to stop mowing our upper meadow to better support not only the bees but the cicadas, preying mantis. What better way to live than to glean sweetness from what you once considered an enemy? Now the weeds and I do more than co-exist. Together, we flourish.

A wonderful book with a similar philosophy is The Tree by John Fowles