Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.
It is one of those rare Saturdays when my sofa coffee break is actually a break. Normally I am still wiping sleep from my eyes as I take my own sweet luxurious time in coming to life. On a normal Saturday morning I have not yet done a thing to take a break from. It is one of my life rules.
But today is different, an exception to the rule.. The only thing I am wiping from my eyes is pollen and the resulting bio-gunk that gives everything a glamour shot halo in the early morning sun. It is the first day I have had a chance to suit up and do battle with Mother Nature's advancing army.
I was up as the sun was peeking over the mountain ridge above Taits Gap. It was colder than I expected, as clouds of frosty breath rhythmically marked the accelerated pace of my heart and lungs. I thought hopefully that perhaps the cold air would give me an advantage, discouraging the tender shoots of spring from advancing further. But apparently young shoots are not nearly so susceptible to cool spring air as older arthritic joints. As I stepped out into the quiet, a platoon of deer, my odd allies in this effort to halt the flora advance, popped their heads up, stood stone-like for a couple of seconds, and bounded into the forest, each following a different evasive route. I think of the deer much like I think of libertarians. We agree on the thing that needs to be done. The reason the thing needs to be done is another matter. But in times like these, ideological purity must wait for another day.
It was quiet. But in the stillness there was an almost imperceptible sound, a rustling. Probably just my imagination. But still, I knew that sound. It was the telltale sound of the insidious enemy.
The axis of evil.
Maniacal botanical.
Privet, poison ivy, and wisteria.
Oh sure, there are hundreds of other species exploding with new life, green behind the ears, stretching new limbs and leaves hopefully outward and upward into empty spaces. Out in the open. Honestly. I've got little quarrel with them. We can work things out.
But the axis is different.
It moves and creeps, faster and faster, in the dark, out of sight, underground, a complex and far-reaching rhizome or stolon web (not sure which) until on days like these, it explodes like hidden land mines, ripping through the soil and into the warm air, arrogantly claiming massive amounts of territory in the name of its dark powerful underworld. As it grows and expands it requires more and more of the soil, space and water around it. Soon there is nothing left for anyone else. It surfaces in one place, then another. The botanical version of Wack-a-Mole, except less fulfilling.
And the axis is slick. The flowers of the privet and wisteria are pretty and smell sweet. The lush leaves of poison oak glisten as if just sprayed by the florist's mister. It is easy to be seduced by the axis' siren song and perfume on warm spring mornings. But don't be drawn in too close, for unlike Ulysses, who tied himself to the ship's mast to resist the seductive sirens' call, this bunch will reach out with their tentacles and bind you themselves so that you cannot move, you cannot advance to defend your ground.
And so, having been fortified with caffeine, a bit of hyperbole, and a rest on the sofa, it is time to go back out to the battlefield that is my yard. And I have a battle plan.
Lop and saw.
If I'm not back soon, don't cry for me.
Oh, right, that's just your allergies.
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