the zen of weeding

a couple weeks ago, i noticed what appeared to be a pale green sheen on the surface of the zen garden. at first i thought it was some optical illusion created perhaps by rain pooling on the surface of the sand.

but shortly afterward i realized it wasn't an optical illusion at all... it was weeds.

there are few weeds i don't welcome, but there's a few kinds i loathe. the one spreading throughout the zen garden grows particularly virulently around here, probably in response to my loathing. and yes, you garden divas among my Gentle Readers, i've suggested, implored, demanded, and insisted that it take itself and grow elsewhere - anywhere, in fact - but in my designated fox-tail free areas. but like Bad Bunny who taunts buddy so relentlessly on the other side of the window, the foxtails flaunt themselves this year with what seems like special impudence.

just yesterday, i thought i made a dent the day before. this morning i saw the futility of my hope.

this morning i spent an hour in the sun, patiently pulling up the tiny sproutlings. they come up easily enough through the sand, but they have to pulled up one by one. no rushing and grabbing for clumps - all you'd have left is a fistful of sand and borax.

it's not quite as relaxing as raking the zen garden, but it's just as zen.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.