25th September 2013

Apparently that’s what it’s called, and a very good description I might add, about a weed that I am currently doing battle with in the back yard. The more technical name is cardamine oligosperma. Names of a less academic nature include fling-weed, shot-weed, and spit-weed. Because that’s what it does, firing its seeds with the power of a rocket launcher, and shooting them with the precision of an archer at the circles of one’s iris. Whatever it’s called, it would have to rank as one of the most annoying weeds that I have ever had the pleasure of attacking.

What intrigues me, however, is its mind-reading ability. How does it know that my thoughts are bent on its destruction? How does it know that I’m not wanting to admire it, or water it, or fertilize it, or stroke it tenderly? Why does it always think that my motives are sinister? My motives are indeed sinister, very sinister, but why does it assume that?

There are many people who react to great Gardener in the same nervous way, always assuming that he has it in for them, and always responding with a spit in the eye. True, the Gardener sometimes does approach his plants with a sharp knife (John 15), but it is only so that his plants may be kept in good health and prosper. Admittedly it’s a faith position, and does require faith to allow his knife to do its holy work without shooting off dark thoughts in his direction. But it’s not an impossible position, and faith is something that the Gardener is very willing to supply by the bagful.

DM 24^th Sep 2013