Compassion for Weeds

 Compassion for Weeds

My heart goes out to the plants we call weeds.

How would we feel if we were treated as unwelcome

even though we were beautifully growing somewhere?

How do these strong and resilient unwanted plants feel

when they are hated, eradicated, and labeled as undesirable?

In truth, they are the strongest plants in our ecosystems,

growing without human assistance, filling their own needs.

Don’t we owe them our admiration? At least a nod of congratulation?

I think of them as brave explorers, journeying through the world,

finding just the right place to grow, to mature and spread seeds.

These plants have evolved over time into their own unique forms,

all different, all with special qualities that help them survive.

Some have developed root systems that spread underground.

Some  grow winged seeds that are carried by the wind.

Some stretch tall enough to catch the sun even in a crowded field.

Some attract the perfect foragers who plant for future generations.

When I pull out a plant that is getting in the way of my vegetables,

I apologize. I tell it that it is welcome to grow somewhere else,

that I admire its tenacity, its presence in the world.

Sometimes I use the dead plant for mulch that will 

slowly nourish my chosen garden plants, the insiders.

But in the grand scheme of things, I suspect that someday

we will be studying these persistent, adaptive plants,

the ones we call weeds. Their history is a success story

even through a changing climate. In our human future,

these undervalued neighbors may turn out to be treasures.