On Weeding

I've been neglecting my front yard for way too long.  I knew the weeds were growing there, shooting up through the healthy grass and causing my lawn mower to groan, but I just didn't want to deal with the hard work, sweat and tears it would take to get rid of them. 

I guess I just kept hoping the grass would take over eventually and choke the weeds out.  Or that maybe some friendly neighbor would jog by my house, notice how ugly the lawn looked, and stop to pull them out for me.  But, no.  It looks like I'm going to have to do this. 

This is a good time to do it.  We've been pounded by rain this spring. We have had the storms, I'll say! Hitting us from every side. Dumping more water on us than we have known how to deal with at times.  It's caused damage. Devastating destruction in some cases.  But it's also made the soil easier to work with. So this morning I kneel here, in the dirt, digging and tugging and tossing, trying to avoid touching the slugs or injuring the earthworms. 

I like it when I get my fingers around a big fat root that pulls up and leads to runners that also come up easily. It's satisfying to take down a whole section of the invasive growth in one handful.  Others, the smaller ones, need a more tedious treatment. I just have to dig away, pulling them up one by one, and reminding myself that I am dealing with the problem, little by little.

Of course I know I'm not really solving the problem forever. I'm pulling up as many of the roots as I can get my fingers around, but they still have very healthy ends buried below the grass.  I'm afraid getting rid of them will involve more of a long-term commitment.  I will have to keep an eye on things and take time to yank up more roots as they sprout. 

One thing I wonder is why the good soil nurtures both weeds and the plants that feed us and beautify our lives?  I wish it were more selective.  Instead, the soil provides nourishment to all growth, and leaves it up to us to decide which species will be planted, will survive, or will thrive in it.

And sometimes it seems like the weeds are stronger. Why is it the good plants require more nurturing from us--more deliberate planting and tending and TLC in order to survive? It's almost as if we were meant to participate in nature in some way--to choose what kind of plants we want to promote and protect. That's a big responsibility, one I'm not sure I can handle.

But I feel a little better when I remember that I am only responsible for the weeds in my own yard. If I had to worry about the weeds in my neighbors' lawns the task would be hopeless.  

Wait a minute. I do need to worry about his weeds.  If he doesn't pull his dandelions up by the roots I'll be dealing with the consequences when they go to seed and the wind blows my way.  I should probably get onto him about that.

But wait another minute. If I complain about his dandelions, the neighbor on the other side might growl at me for the clover that's growing across the boundary between my lawn and his. I'm not ready to deal with the clover yet.  Right now it's just the buttercups. No, I can't afford to worry about the neighbors' weeds.  I have enough trouble dealing with my own.

There is some light peeking through the rainclouds though. I've heard that a good, healthy grass lawn can actually crowd the weeds out eventually. That's heartening.  I plan to "overseed" once I've cleared out enough of the weeds to expose the soil.  So eventually, with enough rain, and sun, and seed and good soil, maybe the whole neighborhood will begin to look a lot better.