Nothing is so beautiful as Spring—
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely
and lush…
Gerard Manley Hopkins
The weeds have arrived. Are we celebrating their beauty? In my garden they preceded the snowdrops. I’m not sure they ever really left. While weeds compete with desired plants for space and nutrients—and we do battle—you have to admire their tenacity. And appreciate the irony: they thrive unassisted while we labor to keep favored plants alive.
In spring we envision glorious gardens, abundant with blooms and edibles, weed-free and picture-perfect. By September we’re often waving the white flag of surrender. Undaunted, we repeat the ritual year after year…planting, weeding, harvesting…with pleasure.
In his poem “Spring” Hopkins asks, “What is all this juice and all this joy?” As we busy ourselves with the tasks at hand it’s good to pause and consider the question. Writing from my second-floor perch I watch a robin building her nest in the crook of a downspout. Outside my window the pear, serviceberry and crabapple trees are bursting with blossoms. Tulips, daffodils and bluebells dance in the perfumed breeze. So beautiful.
