Once upon a time I had beautiful flowers growing in my flower box, perennials they were, popping up eagerly every spring, similar to the photo on the left, but not hydrangeas, and not blue. After a while, a number of years, five years perhaps, I noticed that fewer and fewer shoots were sprouting up. Then one year they just got tired I suppose, and hid in the soil. Or maybe the seeds fell asleep and forgot to wake up? Or maybe they thought I didn’t care anymore? Or maybe their life-span had run its course?
Then this spring a weed appeared. I had left the flower container on the ledge, filled with soil, and just let it be, and now something else was growing in it. I didn’t notice it particularly, and certainly not enough to do anything about it, until the other day when the soil was all dried out and the weed (or whatever) was drooping forlornly. Better water it, I thought. Weed or no weed, it had the thoughtfulness to grace my window box with its presence and it deserved a drink of H2o.
They don’t look like trees at first. They might just look like this one, a green shoot looking for the light. (This is the same window box as above; I’ve just colored it more green.)
But does a tree seed know that it’s only growing in a plastic container on someone’s kitchen window ledge? I don’t think so!
I’m telling you these trees cannot be stopped. I’ve seen shoots sprouting up from cracks in the sidewalks of Brooklyn. (There’s something about Brooklyn…)
That tree was an Ailanthus, or “Tree of Heaven”, native to China and Taiwan, and is common in vacant lots around New York City.
One never can tell…
So I think I will stop calling my ‘weed’ a weed, and perhaps think of it as a little tree, maybe? Because, who knows? (And if you know, then please don’t tell me. I like surprises! I like living in wonderment…)