Trash Trees

The damn trees or overgrown vines or what have you, they are going to die.

Ordinarily, I'm not so bloodthirsty (sapthirsty?) when it comes to flora and foliage. This time, its different. This time, it is almost personal. I do have a conscience about it, I have apologized to the vines. As I cut and pulled, tugged and strained, I felt bad that I was ripping them off the shrubs and trees around my yard.

But they wouldn't stop growing. Not when I asked nicely. Not when there wasn't much rain. They just kept growing. The electric lines, out in the alley alongside the house, began to disappear under a shaggy filigree of leaves and tendrils. Maybe I was just wigged out by all those leaves, advancing by the inch day after day (or so it seemed), but weren't the lines beginning to sag from the weight?

Maybe. I did see where the vines were beginning to choke out the trees. I could stand it no longer. Last night I broke down and bought a pair of heavy duty pruning shears, small ones, because that is all I could afford. I had to buy some bug spray, too, but that is a subject for another post.

So I have the shears in my hands, feeling all badass because Ima get medieval on them vines. The heat and the humidity were stifling as I plunged into the greenery up against the fence. No stopping now, I had the vine in my hands. It was about twice as big as the recommended maximum size noted on the shear pack.

No matter. I was unlocked and ready to cut. Gnaw, actually. I had to make repeated cuts to make it all the way through, but sever the vine I did. I grabbed more vines, cutting and gnawing like a crazed rodent. Leaves fell, curses were muttered, things snapped.

Regrettably, it felt good. 

Soon, I had a big pile of severed vines at my feet. Leaf bits fluttered languidly to earth in the thick air. Birds scolded me for disturbing their evening activities. I wiped the sweat from my brow and closed the clippers. I was soaked, tired and a wee bit sad.

Those vines left tangled in the trees and wrapped around the wires will wither and die. That will make it easier for me to remove them once they are brown and dry. This troubled me. I know they should be removed so other things don't get messed up...but they were just leaves and tendrils, green and growing. Vines fulfilling their 'vineness'. And I had to destroy them.

I was sad because it wasn't just a safety and convenience rationale that justified cutting them down. The reason in the shadows, the subconscious drive, was I felt I needed to control something. I needed to exert control over something in my environment to gain some measure of control over my life.

Because its been a lot of weeds lately. I feel like if I stand still, they will grow over me. It's terribly difficult to cut what you cannot see, so the vines in my yard became the stand-ins. I take no real pleasure in destruction, but the weeds, they are too thick.

I do not want to be overgrown.