Tuesday, November 19, 2019


I had this friend, Fern. We liked to hang out in the shade together, as we both get a bit wilted and burnt in the afternoon sun. I tried to support Fern's notion of the more being merrier, but she did not respect my vision of everything having its place. She worked fiercely in her secret underground to build a network of roots to support her random offspring. I was lured in several times by those adorable little wound up curls, just waiting to fling themselves open with the same misguided enthusiasm as a party blower.

This year I tried harder to keep the invasion at bay. By that, I mean that I ripped out many a wandering juvenile threatening to dwarf or strangle my other perennial friends. They got the hint...or so I thought
Really, Fern? I can't even say I was mad though to be honest. I admired her strength. She hit a wall, for the most part, and persevered. It was unnecessary for her to invite friends...
...but who was I to judge such tenacity? My trips to and from the car started to alternate between varying levels of fascination, annoyance and concern for the security of our driveway.

I don't know if the people my husband hired to seal out driveway sat in a circle around Fern, having their own "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" moment; or whether she was plucked from her spot and flung aside without even a second thought.