I’ve been watching the bindweed spread along the paths where I go for my daily walks. It’s a sweet looking flower, related to the morning glory (which can also be invasive). I used to pull it out of my garden(s) back in Chicago. It’s not native here or in Chicago–it came from Europe and Asia. (I also wrote about the birds I see on my daily walks.
Bindweed
Here’s a poem I found about bindweed (published at Poetry Foundation):
As I looked at these plants spreading and read about them, I felt really angry that these plants were spreading everywhere. When I have such a strong reaction to something, I know it’s not just because it’s affecting the landscape (although that is sad and annoying), but it also symbolizes something that’s going on inside me.
So I asked myself, what is my inner bindweed? There’s a lot of fear in my inner garden–about having enough resources (e.g. energy, time, money) and also about not being enough or not good enough. I don’t believe that these plants are native to my garden, but I have given them a home–and they have served a purpose. One fact that struck me about real bindweed is that it can have a 20-foot taproot–as referenced in the poem above. You can keep pulling it out and it will keep coming back unless you can dig really deep–and I’ve certainly never dug that deep in any earthly garden.
happy bindweed on a sunny day
My bindweed meditation
But I called on my inner Master Gardener to help me remove the taproot of the bindweed that grows in my soul garden. We pulled out that deep root. Then she told me to give it a big hug and thank it for grounding me–for it was there for a reason (not sure if that’s true of bindweed in the fields I see it in around me). Then I held it high in the air with my Master Gardener’s help and watched it dissolve into air and light. A feeling of gratitude was necessary for this process. For anger and dis-ease are part of what held it in place.
I often repeat these meditations several times before they feel complete–so far only once on this one, but I’ve been pulling out the small roots for a long time!
Poetry Friday
Since today is Poetry Friday, and since I’ve been feeling wrapped in bindweed, I decided to write my own bindweed poem.
Today’s host for Poetry Friday is Carol at Carol’s Corner. Check out her post about her adorable new puppy and see what other poets have to say, too.
My own bindweed poem
I’ve enjoyed watching the succession of flowers in my new neighborhood. First, lots of yellow salsify, that looks like bright yellow stars,
yellow salsify in flowerYellow salsify gone to seed
then mullein,
I’m pretty sure this is mullein–but it grew far from the path, so I did not get a close look
and a lot of little flowers whose names I don’t yet know. Now the thistles
Thistle in full bloom
are passing their peak and sunflowers are beginning to bloom.
I noticed the bindweed a while ago, but suddenly it’s spreading everywhere, and it makes me sad, so I wrote a poem to help me process my feelings.
Bindweed among the fuschia flowers
The flower who loved too much
“I love you,” she said
as she wound her tendrils
around the blade of grass.
“I will stay with you forever.”
“I love you,” she said
and sank her roots deep into the earth.
“I love you,” she said
to the columbine.
Columbine smiled at
her sweet round face
and felt her stem embraced
and then leaves and flowers.
“I love you,” she said.
“You are prickly and hot in the sun.”
The barbed wire fence felt unmoved
as the arrow green leaves
and moon-faced flowers
covered him.
But the barbed wire fence liked
the green smell,
and it tickled him
when the cows nibbled
on the leaves that entwined him.
“I love you,” she said to herself
as she wound around herself,
not seeing the others anymore.
And the barbed wire fence
sighed with pleasure
as the cows lips caressed him.
“I love you,” she said
to no one in particular.
more bindweed
I started a painting of bindweek–here it is in progress. I’ll add the finished version when it’s ready–I wanted to focus on the deep roots:
Bindweed painting–in progress
Do you have bindweed in your inner or outer gardens?
I’d love to know what you’ve done with it in either case. And that’s all for today.
What a lovely and moving reflection. Your post goes well with Molly’s on plant blindness and shifting focus. Your reflection and poems bring much into focus.
I enjoyed your connection from outer to inner, Susan, & that painting is lovely. Although I love your poem, I’m unsure about the message, that sinister voice. Yes, I fight bindweed in a garden outside my fence, but belonging to our HOA’s greenspace. It is taking over a lovely meadow area in a small park near me, too. I see it everywhere. Some days I count it good if I can find one long root! Perhaps that is something to consider personally, too, as you wrote. It’s a thoughtful post I will remember as I dig & dig.
Thanks, Linda. I have mixed feelings about bindweed, and I’m sure that comes through in the poem. On the one hand, the flowers are beautiful–I’ve always loved morning glories, too, which are related and can also be invasive. But on the other hand, I don’t want the bindweed to take over all the beautiful natives.
When I had my garden, I never dug deep enough to get rid of the bindweed, but my garden was small and I just kept pulling it out so it was more or less under control!
Your post was very educational for me — I didn’t know about bindweed (its name or that it is invasive, with a long taproot). Your meditation sounded very useful. I will try to remember that!
Is that mullein? The flowers look pretty big. The thistle might be teasel?
Thanks, Tabatha–I’m not sure about the mullein–I didn’t get close enough to get a good look-it’s off the path and there are things like rattlesnakes in the grass (I now understand the saying “a snake in the grass”). But I’m pretty sure the other ones are thistles. I looked at photos of teasel and while there are some similarities in the flowers, the stems and leaves look different. The plants I saw have lots of spiky thorns and the leaves look the same as the photos of thistle.
What a lovely and moving reflection. Your post goes well with Molly’s on plant blindness and shifting focus. Your reflection and poems bring much into focus.
I enjoyed your connection from outer to inner, Susan, & that painting is lovely. Although I love your poem, I’m unsure about the message, that sinister voice. Yes, I fight bindweed in a garden outside my fence, but belonging to our HOA’s greenspace. It is taking over a lovely meadow area in a small park near me, too. I see it everywhere. Some days I count it good if I can find one long root! Perhaps that is something to consider personally, too, as you wrote. It’s a thoughtful post I will remember as I dig & dig.
Thanks, Linda. I have mixed feelings about bindweed, and I’m sure that comes through in the poem. On the one hand, the flowers are beautiful–I’ve always loved morning glories, too, which are related and can also be invasive. But on the other hand, I don’t want the bindweed to take over all the beautiful natives.
When I had my garden, I never dug deep enough to get rid of the bindweed, but my garden was small and I just kept pulling it out so it was more or less under control!
Your post was very educational for me — I didn’t know about bindweed (its name or that it is invasive, with a long taproot). Your meditation sounded very useful. I will try to remember that!
Is that mullein? The flowers look pretty big. The thistle might be teasel?
Thanks, Tabatha–I’m not sure about the mullein–I didn’t get close enough to get a good look-it’s off the path and there are things like rattlesnakes in the grass (I now understand the saying “a snake in the grass”). But I’m pretty sure the other ones are thistles. I looked at photos of teasel and while there are some similarities in the flowers, the stems and leaves look different. The plants I saw have lots of spiky thorns and the leaves look the same as the photos of thistle.