Natural selection…in my frontyard
At the urging of my wife, I finally went outside and put down some weedkiller.
As I’m walking around spreading death to weeds with my gloved hands, the dew gets into my sneakers and the chill slips under my sweater. I’m just starting on the bucket when I notice that the weeds are bigger and spikier than last year, and clumpier.
We have mutant dandelions.
I would probably think it was cool if it wasn’t so frightening. Every time I leave and come home I shut my eyes against their encroachment, and now here I was staring down the latest in generations of mutation that took innocent little dandelions and transformed them into these gigantic monstrosities wielding spikey bits.
Sometimes I think that the local yardworkers drive past my lawn just to show young apprentice yardworkers what NOT to do. Look, they tell their young apprentice, look what happens when people fail in their duty to maintain their grass. Can this place be real Master, the young apprentice asks, and the only thing the master can do is gesture to the little house sitting behind the tall crabgrass and mutant weeds. It is too horrible, the apprentice finally says as he looks away.
Maybe some of that weed killer got into my skin…
felixnation :: Apr.28.2007 :: Hermit Cave, wife :: No Comments »