Backyard Drama

There it was.

Another weed poking up into the new grass. I pinched it near the base of its stalk and gently pulled up one more invader. Little clumps of dirt fell out of the thin, white roots as I tossed it aside to a growing pile of defeated plants

I recognized the weeds from any vantage point in the yard now, even compiling a mental Most Wanted list for crimes against nature.

First on the list was a duo that seemed to work together--The Creepers. They liked to find a small bare spot and gently put down a few shallow roots at the base. They didn't disturb the soil very much, but once they set up a base of operations, they began the takeover of the neighborhood. Slowly they would snake their way in between blades of grass and roots. After a few weeks, they would triple in size, choking out the moisture and sun needed by the grass until they had established a monoply in the area.

Eliminating them was rather easy. I'd trace the massive system back to the single source of power, usually initiated by one seed, and rip out the entire organization. The only problem was the damage to the surrounding neighborhood. It was barren and empty now; all the good had been choked out of it. I could only hope the rightful tenants would return and rebuild in the wide, open spaces.

Another criminal was a little more subtle. He went by the name Ice. His aspirations weren't quite as high as The Creepers; he merely wanted to find a nice spot to hide and grow--ignored by those who were on the lookout for him. He got his name by the clever disguise he liked to use. While growing with the neighboring grass, he'd blend in: his shade of green matched the surroundings perfectly; his leaves were narrow enough to look like grass as he started to grow; he let the grass tower over him. Secretly, his plans to secure a permanent place in the system were being put into place.

When I found him, he seemed like a two-bit criminal, hardly worth my time. As I reached down to get him, I was surprised at his firepower. He wasn't budging. After a standoff, I was finally able to secure the area. When all was said and done, his underground operation was exposed. Although Ice seemed harmless, only poking out about an inch above the soil, his hidden roots were seven inches long, straight into the underbelly of the grass community---an iceberg waiting to crash an unsuspecting ship.

My crackdown hasn't seemed to scare off new offenders. They like to try and fill the void left by the old crime bosses, hoping for a piece of the soil pie.

That's OK. I'll still be here, fighting the good fight against the evil weeds.