The first time I saw this doodle by Andre, I cracked up. The weeds were very sorry. They promised not to do it again.It so perfectly captured the remorse of the weeds in my garden. Those downcast faces, those shifting stems . . .
My own weeds hang their heads, they are forever sorry, and they really, really promise not to be so bad ever again.
Every year they get worse.
Do these weeds look apologetic to you?
No they don't. They look happy and thriving and proud to be weeds. Queen Anne's Lace does not look anything but regal and queenly and definitely not remorseful.
Timothy grass is tall and noble and has a certain reserve.
But goldenrod has no elegance. The forests of giant six foot tall goldenrod that explode in August are anything but demure. They tower over all, lordly and loud.
Other tall weeds have established their territories -- stands of milkweed built like fire towers and thistle that could support cell phone antennas.
Feverfew waving about over everything, showing off its delicate daisy-like flowers.
Bindweed wraps around anything upright, mostly the other weeds. Its frilly blooms do not look at all contrite. Not at all.
A big stand of pale curlytop knotweed (persicaria) is blatantly faking being a garden plant, growing as it is at the edge of the lawn.
And of course the ragweed and purple loosestrife do not even pretend. They own the space.
These proud, unapologetic plants are in the unmowed area that surrounds my yard. I have an agreement with most of them. If they will stay out of my gardens, I will let them grow as they wish in the surrounding area and call it a meadow.
They like that. They don't always like being called weeds.
But when they make a play for my garden beds, which they do all the time, I make sure they are very, very sorry about that kind of behavior.