May all your weeds be wildflowers...
That’s an inscription I use when I autograph some of my Nina Quinn books (A Hoe Lot of Trouble, et al), and I love the connotation behind it. That one should look deeper than what’s on the surface and that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Plenty of metaphors to be had for life, for love, for friendships.
That being said, when it comes to the actual garden...I’m not all that fond of weeds. We have some prickly weeds that have the most tenacious root system I’ve ever come across. And chickweed. Ugh. It's everywhere. And then there are the dandelions, with their flirty white puffs. Love them in the wild. Hate them in my garden beds.
Every year, I tend to add more perennials to my garden. Some survive, some don’t. The thing is, I can never remember what I planted and where. So come spring, it’s quite the conundrum trying to figure out if what is sprouting is a weed or a perennial.
So, I let them grow. And grow. And grow. And sometimes what blooms is a beautiful flowering plant (like this year’s lobelia), and sometimes...it’s obvious it’s a weed. But sometimes when that weed isn't easily recognizable (dandelion, dreaded chickweed), I let it keep growing just to see what it turns in to.
I was rewarded this year. The two-foot tall weed that grew produced delicate yellow flowers (no idea what the weed is). For a while, that yellow was the only color in the garden and never failed to brighten my day. It didn’t take long, however, for the weed to start to wither and flop over. I pulled it out, but you can bet that next year at this time I’ll be looking for it again.
The chickweed, however, is a goner.
How about you? Do you ever let your weeds grow?