| Every so often, something happens in the wider world that makes you stop mid-weed and think: Ah. Yes. I’ve seen this before — just with brambles. The sudden urge to take control of something that isn’t yours is not unfamiliar in a garden. It usually begins innocently enough. A plant does well. It stretches. It crosses a line. When left unchallenged, it decides that the line never really mattered. In gardening terms, this is mint escaping its pot, ivy discovering confidence, or a hedge quietly swallowing the fence it was meant to respect. The plant isn’t malicious. It genuinely believes it is acting in the space’s best interests. It grows fast. It expands. It insists. When gently told no, it rarely retreats. More often, it doubles down. Gardeners learn early that shouting doesn’t work. Nor does punishing the rest of the border in the hope that the problem plant will feel chastened. Aggression only spreads stress through the system. What’s required instead is pause, assessment, and an understanding of why the imbalance happened in the first place. Too much feeding. Too much freedom. Too little early intervention. Left unchecked, even useful plants become bullies. Mint will claim an entire bed without apology. Bamboo does not negotiate. Leylandii never sense when enough is enough. Gardens, like alliances, rely on quiet maintenance and clearly understood boundaries. Strength doesn’t come from domination. It comes from balance, restraint, and respect for shared space. We see this play out daily in gardens that haven’t been tended because they seemed “fine.” Beds that were over-encouraged. Lawns pushed too hard until they simply stopped cooperating. The solution is almost never dramatic. It’s careful. Repetitive. Occasionally dull. A measured cut rather than a scorched-earth response. Soil correction instead of punishment. Listening to what the garden is showing you, rather than demanding it behave. Gardens have a habit of offering lessons whether we’re ready for them or not. You can’t force long-term health through pressure. You can’t bully a system into balance. And control, when mistaken for care, always comes back around. The garden remembers. It always does. |
When the Garden Tries to Annex the Fence
Earthly Comforts 