The Noxious Weed of Hope Springs Eternal

It was an ugly little bugger. Then it was an ugly big bugger. And there were a lot of them. Surrounded by lovely understated flax, dramatic bunches of tulips, and comfy-as-a-pair-of-old-jeans columbine in every possible color combination, it was an outright eye-sore. The pale green leaves were covered in sharp spikes, as were the stems and finally the egg-sized pods that emerged on top of each stalk. To say it was an intimidating looking plant is an understatement. Not only did it whole-heartedly warn you not to even think about pulling it out without wearing a Kevlar suit, but the pods were reminiscent of something from a sci-fi movie. It invoked images of shambling ur-beings – resembling humanity in every physical way, but bent on our ultimate and final destruction. Undoubtedly, the dandelions stealthily poking leaves out from behind clumps of succulents shuddered at such a hideous weed that they now found sharing their bed. They must have been confused when I pulled them from the garden and left them to dry in a heap on the flagstones while such an unsightly creature continued to take up more and more space in the beds. I know I was.

Friends would shake their heads and say I should pull them immediately. One friend suggested with some certainty that they might be “noxious weeds” that would undoubtedly bring ruin to the tranquility of my back yard oasis. I considered getting elbow-length gloves to simply take care of the unpleasant job so that the mint and chives might yet survive the onslaught. Yet I hesitated. Tom and I had agreed not to pull anything out our first year in the house. I have made an exception with things that are growing outside their containers and the aforementioned dandelions. These were different though. They obeyed the containment of the low stone walls of my beds. One of them was even contained in its own small white wire fence… or it had choked the poor creature that had once occupied that space. As the irises blossomed and began nodding their dark purple heads to the rhythm of a music only they could hear, the pregnant pods swelled with future life. But what could possibly come from such a beastly delivery mechanism? The pods became larger and larger and the prickly outer petals of the pods began to peel back, and yet I thought I had days left. I was wrong.

When I came home yesterday, in a rush of self-preservation, one of the brutal looking pods had spewed forth its terrifying payload: The most beautiful crimson poppy I’ve ever seen, with its paper-like petals fluttering in the wind. Now this is my kind of noxious weed!