Visitors to my garden have often remarked on my almost weed-free flower beds.
"You must spend all your time weeding" they say, their voices dripping a combination of admiration and envy, as they take in my tidy well-mulched garden.
"Not really," I'm quick to assure them, with perhaps a bit of smuggness, "I don't give them a chance."
The truth is, this conversation usually takes place during an "Open Garden," the culmination of months of grooming. Unseen are the year-round battles I wage to keep the upper hand against weeds and plant thugs.
"Look! You have a Dandelion!" a friend informs me, loudly . . . as if she has discovered something I was not aware of.
I ignore her. The dandelion is the least of my problems. Of far greater concern are the invasive roots and weed seeds that grow in secret.
Even as the garden lulls me with the beauty of its pristine beds, danger lurks. A small tendril, in a far corner of the garden, breaks the soil. Counter-clockwise, it wraps itself around the lower stems of a Forsythia. It grows unobserved. Days later I will pass this section and notice something strange. The Forsythia is leaning at crazy angles. Branches lie horizontal to the ground. Puzzled, although this scene has played out many times before, I march into the underbrush to investigate. And then I spot the problem. I reel back in horror.
Convolvulus, more commonly known as Bindweed, with its gay "Morning Glory" type flowers, has reached monstrous proportions! Now, with nowhere to go, the tendrils wave in the breeze above me, like the snake heads of Medusa, searching for new victims.
When noxious vines desist from leveling healthy shrubs, weed seeds bombard our gardens. Our islands of order seem to shout, "Welcome," to all and sundry. Weed seeds blow in on gusts of wind from distance places, and from as close as next door. Weeds that gain a toe hold, or are left to mature, such as a common Redroot Pigweed or common Lambsquarters, can produce up to 70,000 seeds.
Birds and squirrels drop and bury seeds in the ground. The hardest to see are the seeds that hide amongst other plants or the tree seedlings that are firmly rooted in the ground by the time we spot them and dificult to pull. Squirrels may be responsible for the dozens of exotic Oregon Myrtlewood seedlings, Umbellularia californica, I find in my garden. For many years I pulled or dug them up and threw them away. Was I a nut myself? Other people complain about giant Maple seedlings. After fourteen years I have finally begun potting them up to use in containers and give to friends. The fresh leaves are more potent in soups and stew than store bought bayleaves. I am even using them as subjects for topiary, although they are capable of growing to eighty feet with a width of fourty one feet! Read The Story of Myrtlewood
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