The Return

The Return

This morning is gray, windy, and fifty. I wore a trench coat and wool hat on my walk, and took no garden photos. The only thing I saw growing with vigor was poison ivy, which appeared suddenly on a vine ripping through the Persephone Garden and rocketing up a tree.

I first noticed it yesterday. For a few warm days now the Casita, which is what I call my garden shed, has smelled of vinegar. Yesterday, I surrendered to its persistence and found a stinky solution puddled in the lid of my plastic two gallon jug, the one with a pump and spay wand. I carried it outside. I have no idea why the top leaked. Maybe the sun heated things up and the liquid expanded.

Anyway, I thought as long as I was holding the pump jug I would see if it still worked. I am not even sure what is in it. It could be horticultural vinegar, which is extra strong. Or it could be a mix with Dawn detergent, salt, and other ingredients I cannot quite recall.

I pumped it up, and sure enough, I was able to make the wand shoot out a fine spray. And then, since I was holding the loaded jug, I walked over to where I had seen poison ivy grow last year, and darn it all if it was not shining in the sunlight. Tiny, red three-leaf clusters were sprouting out of a skinny vine left on the tree from last year.

I sprayed as much as I could see. This morning, I note a fair amount of horseradish leaves are shriveled dead. I think other plants may be affected. I was careful to avoid the day lilies. Sadly, I do see new ivy this morning. Maybe, before I go out, I can get back in the garden to snip the dastardly vines. Monday, I will suit up for an attack.

Spring is Life’s return to Earth, and it is a rough ride. Yesterday, we had a taste of summer’s bright heat. Today’s gray damp bitter wind feels insulting. The thrill of seeing the false indigo push up out of the earth from nowhere makes the ivy feel more offensive. I try and remember, it is only because I love my garden so well that I feel unhappy about the ivy.

I wonder how it was for Persephone, when she bid farewell to Hades, and returned to Earth to be with her Mom, Demeter. Maybe I will reread the story.

L L walks by Persephone, the reason for the changing seasons.
The myth of Persephone explains the reason for seasons


Barbie Burr

Barbie Darwin Burr was born in La Jolla, California into a Navy family. Moving every year made gardening difficult, but not impossible for her father, a disciple of Scott and Helen Nearing and a man with a vast ability to imagine and create.

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