My mother aimed a BB pistol, but they just looked at her. Weed seeds are the fifth column of an army. They invade the garden every spring and establish an interlocking system. Wild clover send runners through the soil. Grasses mass in cohorts.
Dandelions dig deep.
Thistles attack bare soil with tiny seeds carried on the wind by gossamer paratroopers, . This is a war, my mother says, she can never win. As we are weekend warriors, the soil is always parched. Only weeds survive our absence. When we water, we water weeds.