It’s weed season in Watertown. The combination of an unusually hot summer and recent downpours has yielded a fierce, proud crop of prickly greens, taking over sidewalk cracks and curb edges all over town. It would be hard to crown a “Champion Weed,” but the one shown here is definitely a contender.
Early in the summer, I love to weed. I find it satisfying and soothing, a task that yields clear, dramatic results quickly. Maybe because so much that we do in life is hard to measure, filled with mystery, weeding provides a needed sense of control.
But by late August, I’d rather sleep on a bed of nails than pull weeds. I’m just done with it. I give the weeds their day in the sun. It’s not really laziness, just resignation and a reordering of priorities. Let the weeds be weeds; I’m going to the beach. Let me float along in the mystery and the unmeasurability of life for a few more weeks, before returning to the land of metrics.
Looks like a lot of folks in Watertown feel the same way. How about you?