07 April 2006



We pulled up weeds with multicolored roots. We took the weeds to a botanist. She said the weed was so rare it had not yet been discovered. She showed us the page in her catalog of plants where it was going to be described. The page was blank. I think, she said, you should burn these weeds and never let on that you found them. When the world is ready, they will be discovered in the proper way. She looked so serious that we said we would do exactly that. The roots were lovely roasted with a little lime juice.

This makes me hungry.

P.S. And who said they were weeds? And who said you could pull them up? Huh, huh? Maybe the dirt liked the rainbow colors.
Good questions. Well, my thought is that weeds are a cultural construct, so the culture defined this plant as a weed. Or will define it, since it hasn't been discovered yet. We were probably operating in some kind of prescient mode. No one said we could pull them up. We just pulled them up. Boorish of us, yes, but carrots live with the same peril. Not that carrots are weeds in our culture, but they could be weeds in some other culture. You get the idea. We allowed our concepts to color our perceptions and dictate our actions. So to speak. No one knows why we got this preview. No one knows what will happen next.
Ahhh, thank you for those delicious words.
Thanks for both the poem and starting my Sunday with a laugh, Mario and Kim -
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