Weeds

My lawn can't really even be called a lawn. It is more like free form volunteer plantings. The backyard invasion... where invasives reign. Bindweed and thistles are the only ones I actively and constantly battle to remove. I have no fear of Martha Stewart visiting my yard.

I suppose they are interesting. Patches of various shades of green. The weeds more often are the only green when the arid summers turn grass into sharp daggers that make barefoot wanderings a brutal sliver filled endeavor. I refuse to water any more than necessary. It drives me crazy to see automatic sprinkler systems go off in the middle of a rainstorm, and that happens frequently.

Every now and then you, if you look close... some offer dainty blooms of thanks.

Sometimes dandelion are too thankful and the yard explodes in thousands of seed puffs. Between the dandelions and the cattail wars the yard is filled with floating fluff. I don't mind dandelions. They remind me of when I was young and I braided hundreds together to make a wreaths. Then make the dog sit still while I put it on his head like a dorky yellow halo.
In the event of an emergency.. we could eat the lawn... there are that many. The crazy influx of honeybees who bounced from dandelion to dandelion have moved on to sweeter blooms. The lilacs are perfuming the air and the honeybees are making the shrubs hum.