Weeds are a matter of opinion. Your weed is my garden.

Whenever I see new plants popping up where we purpousfully removed others, despite the tendancy to pluck them again, I can’t help but stop and smile and have a moment of wonder about how amazing it that nature can take hold like that.

Some day this little salmonberry plant might have berries to feed me and the bears, and yet today I consider it a weed that needs to be removed to make way for another plant of our choosing.

Another day I might see chamomile weeds that I am shocked would be mowed, I see milkweed weeds being pulled that I would love to put in a vase. It always makes me pause with wonder.