Photo Shoot: View out the window
My world view, usually spanning most of Cape Cod every week, has shrunk to a small vista just outside the bedroom window. A head cold/sinus infection/flu or not sure what, has left me convalescing. The first fear of course, COVID, after two negative tests in four days I settled in to recover. Being sick on beautiful summer days is much more difficult than winter time rehab, when cold and drab.
The short children’s rhyme from Robert Louis Stevenson’s “A Child’s Garden of Verses” comes to mind. “When I am sick and lay a-bed, I have two pillows at my head, and all my toys beside me lay, to keep me happy all the day.”
My bedside entertainment is a pile of old nightstand reading and the trusty “smart phone” to bring the world to my doorstep.
When not napping, most of my gaze was trained not on technology or the written word, but simply watching the comings and goings outside the window. The sparrow and wren were dueling over ownership of the top perch on the lilac tree. Then there was the state of the front flower bed.
As I lay defenseless in bed, weeds were on the attack. Deep thinker Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “A weed is a plant whose virtues have yet to be discovered.” But I doubt he had the bittersweet vine in mind. As I watched helpless from inside, the tendrils of this invasive species were advancing rapidly towards the one bright spot in my summer garden, a large clump of yellow yarrow flowers. A wonderful perennial which requires no oversight, yet gives a sunny burst of color from July well into August. Seemingly growing inches a day, the vine advanced on a relentless mission to get a stranglehold on the helpless blooms.
Day three and the vines were now in control. Even in my tipsy antihistamine-addled state it was time for action. The first step in the mission was to grab a camera however. I hadn’t tripped a shutter in almost six days. This report would need an image as accompaniment.
The late afternoon sun provided the lighting and I practiced my craft. The encroaching vine paid the lens no heed as it strangled the flower like a boa constrictor. Then it was into gardener mode. A pair of snips in hand I delicately undid the strangulation, worked my way to the ground and ripped up the bittersweet by the roots.
This was a battle I knew would never be won, but heading back to bed to recover I was strangely invigorated, could weeding be a new cure for the common cold?
This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Photo Shoot: View out the window
