As most of you know, we’ve been trying our hands at a decent sized garden this year. The folks at Emergency Seed Bank were kind(or possibly, insane*) enough to send me a sample. I read through the materials and carefully picked out which seeds to plant in my 110 square feet. I carefully masked my my very non-green thumb and tended them lovingly and faithfully. We dispatched the rabbit, but not before he chowed down on almost all the beets and spinach. Thankfully, the radishes survived his noshing. I’ve poisoned mice for eating my green bean plants and (hopefully) chopped up a mole with a shovel for eating most of my carrots. And today, in spite of the heat and drought, I have a healthy crop of parsnips, beautiful heads of cabbage forming, romaine that is over two feet tall (actually going to seed!), and nice chunky tomato vines (the pear tomatoes** are producing like crazy).
This has not been through any particular skill on my part. It has taken hard work and perseverance, but the harvest will be worth it.
When we sowed the seeds into our garden, we looked upon our work with pleasure. That very night, the tree to the east of the garden sowed its own seeds on the damp and fertile ground. As with the seeds we placed intentionally, they took the opportunity to germinate in the nutrient rich soil. We have had to work diligently to remove these sprouts once they reach a maturity level that displays their true character. We’ve plucked them out before they have the opportunity to thrive. If we didn’t, they would rob our crops of nutrients and crowd out their root systems. We intend to reap the good food that we have sown, not feed opportunistic, worthless trees (most trees are not worthless, those in my garden are).
I was thinking about the current state of the world while working in the garden last night, as I often do. It exists as something of a buffer or a preparation for things that may come. So while I carefully patched up a tomato vine where it was damaged by the storm, I thought about the things we cultivate. I provide good soil and water in the hopes of a successful harvest. I defend my garden against threats from the local wildlife. And I pluck out those things I do not wish to reap from my garden. During this drought, I’ve ceased to water my lawn. I tell people that if I can’t eat it, I’m not watering it. And it shows.
We’ve all watched the seeds of entitlement blossom into violence in London. In the once Great Britain, they have cultivated the things society needs the least. Those that draw only from the nutrients and life blood of the community without giving anything in return. They’ve enabled the weeds to overtake the crops by not plucking them out before they became threats. Instead they’ve taken root and are working to destroy the source of their own sustenance.
It should come as no surprise. They provided food, water, and care without expectation of production. They’ve robbed the individual of the means to do the plucking of the weeds of their community. No one should be shocked that they’ve become invasive and over-grown. Once allowed to take root, it is only natural that they would want more. And why not? Why not redistribute that which can be taken so easily?
Take note, thoughtful readers. Similar seeds have been sown around us, and there are those who would rob us of the means to fight back. We are not immune. We must be prepared. Like weeds, they will find the cracks. They are invasive, and they will spread if we are not diligent.
*Seriously, if I can make this stuff grow, you can too. I cannot recommend them highly enough.
**In the interest of full disclosure, the pear tomatoes were purchased as plants from Lowe’s.