Weeds

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There's this back corner in our yard that I've been promising my parents I would weed. It's a mess. I weeded 90 percent of it once. All but one corner and look at it now:

http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e179/princesshephzibah/Nature/100_0342.jpg

Good grief! To the left you can see a small tree. Now... if you look really close to the right in between the white flowers theres this little bit of yellow... that's a bush. Looks like just another weed at this point. *sigh* Ok, I do have a point to all this believe it or not. Weeds are a pain in the patootie. You spray them, they die, new ones come back. You pull them out by the roots, dig them out even, they come back...

As usual I must relate to things like this on a more personal level. All day long I've been going out to the porch for a smoke here and there and sitting there looking at that corner thinking... gee... I should weed that. It sure would be nice to see that bush again. Then something caught my eye and it amazed me:

http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e179/princesshephzibah/Nature/100_0341.jpg

I swear this butterfly was posing for me:

http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e179/princesshephzibah/Nature/100_0340.jpg

Daaang my camera takes good pictures!:

http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e179/princesshephzibah/Nature/100_0339.jpg

How can beauty come from something so seemingly useless? How is it that what I see as a pain in my butt can actually be a vital part of life for something else? Something you wouldn't normally think of? I love butterflies. I always have. I used to dream about releasing butterflies at my wedding instead of blowing bubbles because to me they are such a symbol of what freedom really is. Freedom of the heart.

Their ability to fly was not handed to them on a silver platter. They had to struggle to get free from the cocoon and it is that struggle that gave them the strength to fly when they broke free. Without that struggle they could do nothing but sit on the little twig their cocoon had been attached to and look around, and eventually starve to death I am sure because they could not fly to the flowers they need to fly to.

I think sometimes our hearts are somewhat similar to this scenario. Life brings weeds. Things that grow up and try to choke out the things that we see as beautiful. That we worked so hard to plant, fertilize, water, and grow. So we fight, we dig, we uproot, and they come back, sometimes new ones. Sometimes old ones. We get exasperated and sit down in frustration thinking, "This is impossible. I'm never going to get rid of these weeds." Yet it is those weeds that hold the potential to attract something more beautiful than what we originally intended when we started out.

It's funny how we can be surrounded so completely by the problems life presents sometimes, and yet if we will step back, take a deep breath and look, we can be touched by something beautiful in the midst of our pain. How even those things that surround us though they may seem to be choking out our purposes, our desires, or how we thought things should be, have potential to provide hope and life to something outside of us. They have the potential to serve a greater purpose than even things we had planted could.

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This is good, hep.

Joe(covered in weeds)Nation

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Thanks Joe. Smile

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I enjoyed that, Heph. Thanks.

That corner also made me laugh, though. Reminds me of my 'work' lately.

"Ahh, I'll just plow it all up and throw some wildflower seeds in there" is my solution to everything. Laughing

(Did you ever weed it, Heph?)

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Oh, the injustice of it all -- conformity to the
convention of lawn tidiness is such a hard taskmaster.
That clump of "weeds" seems to convey a suppressed
rebellion to the confinement represented by
the stark bluntness of that palisade. Then
along comes a butterfly (a Gulf fritillary, by
the way) to momentarily uplift the imprisoned soul.

Here in the backyard at my place,depending on
wind direction,I get to savor the smoke from a menthol
from the left, someone's cigar from the right,
or a blend of three or more brands from the gathering
at a pool party from the back. The weed
nicotiana provides a sustenance just as important to
the smoker as the flowering one in the picture to that
butterfly.
Therefore, behold the liberating weed. Your mother just
might understand that bit of lawn neglect..

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YW flushd. Actually no I haven't gotten to it yet. I've thought about it several times but it seems there are more butterfly's that come every day. Today there were three of them hanging out on the flowers. And another one, smaller and yellow flitting about but not going near the bigger ones. I figure butterfly season will be over soon enough. It can wait until then. I'm enjoying seeing the life those weeds are bringing. It's kind of a glint of hope in the midst of lifes circumstances, ya know? Though that corner is quite a mess isn't it? That's a good two-three hour weeding job there. I'll take a pic and post it when I actually get around to it. Until then though, I'm really enjoying those butterflies!

Neko.. uuuh.. where in the world do you live? That's an interesting concept you've got going on there. Errr... I think I get what you are saying... eek...

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Just wanted to encourage you to maintain that spot as a micro-oasis
for such things as birds and butterflies; in turn, your soul benefits
from having asserted itself albeit in a small way. My yard started in
similar fashion -- like, a bare sodded lot.
I live across town from hamburger.

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I'm all for wildflowers. If they're not harmful to children or other plants, I leave 'em.

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Thank you neko. You inspired me:

http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?p=2270332#2270332

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