We went to the Presby Memorial Iris Gardens on Monday. An elderly duo played show tunes on saxophone and piano, and the music mingled with the sweet smells of all those irises. The sun was blazing and I slipped off my shoes to walk barefoot in the grass. It seems lovely and simple, all those flowers. It also looks like a lot of work though. Now that I've experienced home ownership, yard work, and tending my own little garden, the thought of all the weeding and watering that must be done to keep this enclave smelling so sweet is overwhelming. According to the website "the iris gardens contain over 14,000 irises of approximately 3,000 varieties and produce over 100,000 blooms."
So, I was- is this odd to acknowledge?- relieved to see imperfections on the grounds. After getting over the awe of the sheer number of irises, and walking a past the first couple thousand blooms, I spied some weeds in a small bed along the side of the gardens. Then, in the brush, I noticed the arch-nemesis of our own yard: japanese knotweed (one of the world's most invasive species). I pull and kick at knotweed, call it names and say its not welcome, but still it grows up through sidewalks and sneaks into the densest of flowerbeds.
Jake and I didn't realize we were buying property next to a forest of knotweed. When we looked at the house it was hardly noticeable in height, just inches tall, but by the time we moved in it towered over Jake's 6'2" frame. One day we realized we would be battling knotweed as long as we lived in this house. We love our little house, so it is a battle worth raging, and I am willing to kick knotweed to keep it at bay and out of our floorboards (an amusing image, and one I don't believe is that far from the realm of this nasty plant's abilities). I guess this is just the reality of life- you don't know what you're walking in to. One day you have a low growth marsh as a neighbor and the next day it is a 7 foot tall knotweed forest. But, keep kicking at your knotweed- don't let it take over. Flowers and tomatoes seem lovely and simple, but really they take work, dirty knees, and broken fingernails.
So, I was- is this odd to acknowledge?- relieved to see imperfections on the grounds. After getting over the awe of the sheer number of irises, and walking a past the first couple thousand blooms, I spied some weeds in a small bed along the side of the gardens. Then, in the brush, I noticed the arch-nemesis of our own yard: japanese knotweed (one of the world's most invasive species). I pull and kick at knotweed, call it names and say its not welcome, but still it grows up through sidewalks and sneaks into the densest of flowerbeds.
Jake and I didn't realize we were buying property next to a forest of knotweed. When we looked at the house it was hardly noticeable in height, just inches tall, but by the time we moved in it towered over Jake's 6'2" frame. One day we realized we would be battling knotweed as long as we lived in this house. We love our little house, so it is a battle worth raging, and I am willing to kick knotweed to keep it at bay and out of our floorboards (an amusing image, and one I don't believe is that far from the realm of this nasty plant's abilities). I guess this is just the reality of life- you don't know what you're walking in to. One day you have a low growth marsh as a neighbor and the next day it is a 7 foot tall knotweed forest. But, keep kicking at your knotweed- don't let it take over. Flowers and tomatoes seem lovely and simple, but really they take work, dirty knees, and broken fingernails.
