Our neighbor Joanne has known the property for years. When we commented about the grapevines, she said, "Oh, is that what they are? I consider them weeds. I don't know how they got here, and I hate them. They're just weeds." I looked at Chris and laughed a little. Clearly this woman didn't know what she was talking about. Didn't she see their beauty? Didn't she appreciate how they contributed to hiding the urban asphalt and helping me believe I was somewhere in Italy or Greece? Weeds...oh well.
I planted the seeds in our raised beds at the back of the garden. After several weeks, I realized they were underdeveloped due to the lack of sunlight. After keeping track of where the sun travelled, I realized that my beautiful grapevines were blocking much of what sun should have been settling on tomato plants. "I will trim them back a little," I said to myself. A week later, the grapevines had grown back. "I guess I'll have to remove them from this part of the yard. It won't be that much." After an hour of cutting and pruning,the sun was finally able to get through to the beds.
Summer rolled along, and we learned that we had a blackberry bush. By midsummer, we were harvesting cereal bowls full of berries one or twice a week. However, as I would harvest them, I began to notice that this bush was being overtaken by the grapevine, and was beginning to be choked out. Berries were dying from the lack of sunlight, and nutrients were going to the grapevines as they raped and pillaged anything they could twist their curls around. I tried to snip the grapevines back, allowing the bush and vines to co-exist, but the grapevines were just too numerous and they grew too fast.
I knew that I had to choose: Italian atmosphere or urban harvest.
With my hedge trimmers in hand, I cut away at the roots of the grapevines, and tore one green vein after another away from the fence. It was a monstrosity. I hadn't realized exactly how deep the vines had gone. In fact, the vines had bent over the blackberry bush which was now blocking the sidewalk. The amount of carnage left was enough to fill our canoe, which we hung in the place of the decimated grapevines. But one reaps what they sow. In the process of removing the vines, I harvested another bowl full of berries that had been previously hidden.
I suppose grapevines are beautiful in a sense, and for a time the seductive promise of escape and hiding from the world around me distracted me from their destructive, intrusive nature.
Weeds. That's what they were, after all.
