As I write from an upstairs home office, I can see the weeds, each day appearing more robust than the day before. A variety of them abound — thick, tall ones reaching more than two feet, and pointy, prickly ones spreading as definitive tuffs across the yard. There are sticker bushes and vine-like crawlers fighting for space, too.
Every morning timed sprinklers nourish the weeds’ thirst and accelerate their growth. One enterprising weed even broke through the asphalt in front of the house to caress a white Subaru that hasn’t moved in months. There are people, decades younger than me, who live in the house. They emerge most days via car or motorcycle, zooming off as if in quick retreat.
The weeds weren’t there when we moved to this neighborhood a few months ago. Back then, the house didn’t (continue reading →)