A Weed By The Wall
So, which plant would you designate as cultivated, and which a randomly growing, “volunteer” weed? Would either plant “know,” have any sensibility of the distinction? Is it a matter of beauty? Though distinct in vegetative form, and shape of blossom, each is beautiful in it’s own way. Where is the dividing line of the difference—weed or cultivated plant?
It’s a matter of purpose, human purpose, human value, of a large scale human context much wider than either individual plant. Both plants are situated in a garden, which is situated in a sunny patch of a yard, which contains a reasonably maintained home in a nice neighborhood, which happens to be midway between Chicago, a world class city and the neighboring State of Wisconsin.
Now I see. These are concentric circles of meaning, constructed realms of meaning, the product of reason, measured control of forces natural, economic, social, political, etc.
The cultivated plant is a feature of that constructed environment. The weed is the outlier, the intruder, a symbol of loss of control, frenzy, mania, the limits of reason.
I, one solitary individual, am a fragment of nature. What does the weed have to do with me?
Alas for this infirm faith, this will not strenuous, this vast ebb of a vast flow! I am God in nature; I am a weed by the wall. — Ralph Waldo Emerson, Circles
