All the heartache and effort we put into cultivating flowers, wouldn’t it just be easier if we had decided to enjoy the appearance of weeds? We put such labour into growing these ephemeral scherzos of colour, and then when weeds spontaneously appear we fuss and commiserate. If a weed really is,”a wild plant growing where it is not wanted and in competition with cultivated plants,”then can’t we instantly eliminate all weeds just by changing our mindset? I am the Buddha of the backyard.
Why don’t we appreciate weeds for the traits they do embody: they’re hardier; don’t need meticulous nursing; and are beautiful -as everything is- in their own subjective way.
Do we only like flowers because they reflect the work we put into them; because they represent the type of self-care and attainment we are not necessarily willing or brave enough to put into ourselves? Or is it because they are so difficult to grow and necessitate dedication and thus represent a departure from the average. If beautiful roses and irises flourished everywhere as the norm would we love the infrequent mystery of a scotch thistle?