It’s finally Spring–for real–around here. The last few weeks we’ve been sent (by the weather gods) heat, humidity, cold, rain, mist, clouds, sun…everything but snow, although my friend who lives in Colorado has like ten inches on her deck, so it ain’t spring out there yet.
Anyway, now that it IS Spring–26 days after its official opening date–things are budding all over and I am asking myself, as usual, what the difference is between and flower and a weed. For instance:
Now, as this pretty little “plant” is growing on my lawn, right next to the sidewalk, I have to assume it’s a weed. But really, look at it! If I didn’t tell you it was in the lawn, wouldn’t you assume it was a flowering plant? (Hey, if you’re some kind of a gardener and know the names and species and crap like that of flowers and weeds, walk away. This blog is not for you, Martha Stewart).
The only thing I can think of that makes one thing a flower and another a weed is that someone plants a flower but no one in her right mind would plant weeds, right? However, couldn’t we say that Mother Nature (who trumps Martha every time) planted it?
Okay, so they’re not daffodils, but aren’t they just as pretty? Look at those blue ones peeking out from underneath: that’s art.
I guess one could say that flowers, once bloomed, tend to hang around awhile while these little beauties are short-lived, survived only by the leaves that are considered weeds which smother and devastate the pristine lawns our society seems to worship.
Me? I have a yard full of “weeds:”
You want better than that? C’mon, look at that color; no product, food or trowel needed. Nature is its own gardener, how dare we call this a weed.
A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet. These two little buttercups might not be buttercups–and I chose not to smell them at all–but they might smell as sweet. Whatever, they’re pretty.
And how about the greenery that sprouts unfertilized, uninvited, unwanted even, from the concrete block that’s been laying in the backyard since before I bought the house? Is it any less a flower box than those giant earthenware urns people adorn their front porches with? I think not.
In conclusion, I believe that all flowers–even ones that grow untended and unintentionally in what’s supposed to be a lawn–are worthy of praise and adoration. So here’s to the flowers and here’s to Spring and the sunny days and cool nights we will soon be longing for when we are reminded that summer can be a bitch. 🙂