Pulling Bindweed

#StoriesOfHawthornHouse

My nemesis in the garden is bindweed, Convolvulus arvensis. When I first moved into my house several years ago, it had taken over a maple tree, and a pile of yard debris that covered the back corner by my shed creeping behind the shed and across the patio next to the shed. On gardening forums, people refer to it as “the devils weed,” which feels entirely accurate.

It’s roots can grow 30 feet deep, and the seed can remain viable in the soil up to 20 years. It is native to Europe and Asia and is suspected to have come to NorthAmerica in contaminated crop seeds. Monsanto created roundup for this plant specifically.

I’m expanding a bed in my garden that runs along the fence where I planted a bunch of native shrubs, like blue and red elderberry, snow berry, red flowering currant, ocean spray, and the ground cover Kinnikinick. I also planted tall oregon grape but it is being devoured by some kind of pest which has eaten it’s leaves into skeletons. I’m the expanded part of the bed, I plan to plant all of my squash plants, and possibly tomatoes, and maybe corn? My raised beds are predominantly onions and garlic right now.

As I’m digging up the grass and weeds I’m thinking about a saying that’s passed around in gardening groups I am part of: “a weed is any plant growing where you don’t want it to.” And I can’t stop thinking about how much I detest this plant. I look for the relatively thick root string that doesn’t have fibers, but is smooth and breaks easily with a crisp snap. Tiny pieces of root can grow into a new plant so you have to be careful when digging it to make sure you get all the little pieces. So I dig and follow the root to where it’s going, sometimes digging up 5 feet before it breaks or I find an end point.

It feels pernicious, aggravating, strangling, maddening and without end. It takes a strangle-hold on anything in its path, a parasite devouring and trampling other life for self gain. There are so many metaphors I can think of for how this relates to thing in my life and in the world around me: racial and religious oppression, capitalism, bullying, abuse, misogyny, heteronormativity and transphobia, genocide and violence. I wish I could rip all of it out of the ground, free up the choking herbs, vegetables, trees, flowers, and bushes that being such richness, vibrancy, sustenance, and diversity to the garden. It’s a monumental, almost impossible task.

On the gardening forums there are often questions about what to do to get rid of bindweed. Every time that question is asked, there’s is always at least one person who’s reply is: “the only way to get rid of bindweed is to move.” That always brings chuckles and laughing eyes watering emoji responses, along with waterfall tears, the angry cursing emoji, and the hugging a heart care icon.

I don’t want to give up, though. I don’t want to just pickup and leave, turning my back to walk away. I want to do what I can to protect the plants in my garden and the beautiful trees. I think it will just take little by little day by day, year by year. Every root section I pull and vine I un-twine makes a bit of difference and over time the accumulation of that work is visible. I can’t get rid of all the bindweed in the world or even really in my yard but I can make a difference plant by plant, knowing it is a life-long effort.