Weeding

I did some weeding in the flowerbeds today. Not one of my favorite tasks. There are some to claim that weeding is therapeutic or relaxing. I guess there is a sense of accomplishment, you can look at a clean area and see what you have done. But the work is tedious. On a hot day it is downright uncomfortable--sitting in the dirt or bending over, flies biting, sweat dripping...where's the relaxation?

I've seen some poems written about weeding, about the joys of pulling out the bad to make way for the growth of the good. I've seen analogies to life situations, about the need to kill the bad weeds so the good flowers can grow. There is a house down the road where the lawn is not mown all summer. The grass and weeds grow happily together and, from the road at least, it all looks green and healthy. Maybe a few weeds in the mix is not so bad after all. Maybe letting a few errant plants have their time in the sun makes the other flowers look even better.

Fortunately, after I finished weeding I was able to take a cold drink and sit in the shade with a book, and admire my clean flowerbed--although I did spot the smallest of weeds still there.