Rewilding - Aug 23 2022

 

Rewilding

Aug 23 2022

The gravel driveway

is fringed with long leathery grasses

metastatic weeds

small wildflowers.

The surprising beauty

of their transient blooms

keeps catching my eye,

frugal, but vibrant,

and so much more robust

than the cultivated plants

I'm so bad at keeping alive.

As the summer progresses

they are tightening their grip,

until even the centre

of the big parking circle

is getting overgrown.

I used to despair at this wildness,

nature encroaching

on the reassuring order

I'd been hoping for;

the favourable impression

expected of neighbours,

the homeowner's pride.

Perhaps asphalt, I thought,

or concrete even better

and damn the expense.

Forgetting

that weeds find a way,

propagating madly,

penetrating cracks,

filling open space.

And now, I've come to be fond

of this wildness,

my carpet of flowers,

the dense greenery

in all its succulent shades,

the coolness

on hot summer days.

So between an open space,

— sterile

and indiscriminately razed —

and a gesture of deference

to unintended nature

I prefer untamed.

Yes, a little unconventional

a little more laissez faire;

a little less who cares

what others think

and whatever first impression

I suspect it must make.

My country driveway

is slowly rewilding;

its wildflowers

repeatedly surprising me,

and its weeds

only weeds

in the eye of the beholder.