Notes from my Knapsack 4-12-18

Notes from my Knapsack 4-12-18

Jeff Gill

 

Life finds a way
___

 

Ian Malcolm is noted scientist, at least in fictional terms. He's had a number of star turns but is best known for his comic relief and insightful observations in the original "Jurassic Park" movie when, after the re-creators of the dinosaurs into the present day explain how they've made sure that there's no way their risky revivals could break loose, he says:

 

"Life cannot be contained. Life breaks free. Life...uh, finds a way."

 

Spring is the time when the simplest property owner, the least horticultural caretaker or lawn tender, we maintenance-impaired mis-managers all realize the truth of Dr. Malcolm's now all-purpose aphorism: "Life finds a way." (Memes available on request.)

 

Through mulch and sidewalk cracks, up between patio pavers and among the more desireable plants, life keeps finding a way. The spring may bring the spray bottles and lawn care tank trucks, the long-shanked weed pullers and rolling spreaders of granules bearing a chemical punch, but still, life finds a way.

 

The dandelions, brought ashore at Jamestown before 1610 whether in an apothecary's trunk or ship's ballast cast ashore onto a virgin continent from Europe, are now already peering with a yellow squint out of our too long deferred flower beds. Various plants, native and non-native, are poking up from the half decayed leaf mould and bits of scattered buds now cast down as the serious work of leafing out has begun.

 

We look at our greening lawns, in various states of disrepair after the winter, and make our plans for verdant, lush, comforting landscapes, on our quarter-acre or quarter section, but closer up you can tell that life is finding all sorts of ways to complicate our plans for a relaxing summer. Shoots and suckers and tendrils and stems pop up, and a new variety for every season of warmth ahead.

 

Mustards and clovers, chickweeds and dead nettles, they're already at work from just above the surface of the soil; crabgrass is working invisibly, and while it won't really attract your attention until later this summer, if you don't get ahead of it now it's almost not worth the fight later. And on the sun-shaded north-facing walls and structures, microscopic life forms are getting ready to erupt into enough life to attract dust and dirt and spread their grey and grimy stains across the siding of your house or fence rails around the lot.

 

You may think you used a paint last year or a solution in the power-washing last fall which means you don't have to worry about these things, but . . . life finds a way. You have to keep an eye on which lines you don't want crossed, where the borders are supposed to be between this plot and that landscaping feature, because life is finding a way right now to break it down and erase it, given enough time.

 

Yes, those limbs you meant to trim back when it was freezing, but you were waiting for the right not-too-cold, still freezing but not miserable day? Too late. Or you can cut now, watch the wounds weep, and wonder if you just killed that still desired tree or bush (you probably won't, with care and restraint). All those tasks of winter you were going to get to? Now it's time to plunge in and try to stay ahead of the tide, the green wave of growth.

 

Nature may not always throw dinosaurs at you, but nibbling in small but steady ways on your property, life will indeed find a way.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he and his wife and the bank own a house and a patch of weed-besieged lawn. Tell him how you co-exist with ravenous nature at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.