Sunday the temperature was around ninety nine degrees and it felt like stepping into a blast furnace when you walked outside. A great day to sit inside a dark movie theater, munching popcorn and watching the latest movie, or visiting a museum, anything indoors out of the heat.
But the heat didn’t deter one man, our local groundskeeper. A very nice man that works hard to mow and maintain the city grounds. One of his tasks is to weed whack the weeds along the road edge to keep the weeds from growing too tall. I couldn’t believe he was out in the middle of the day wielding his weed eater attacking the straggly weeds on the other side of the road. He either doesn’t feel the heat like the rest of us or he has a death wish. Or maybe I’m just a sissy.
I walked outside to get the burgers off the grill and saw him walking up the road away from my boulder, weed eater in hand and thought surely he didn’t use the weed eater on my ornamental grass that I had just planted a month ago. Surely not. Just to be sure I walked down the yard, burgers in tow to check on my grasses. Sure enough he cut the grasses down all the way to the nubs. I wanted to chase him down, rip the weed eater out of his hands and club him with it. All I could think of was the hard work I’d done, digging up the grasses to replant, digging holes in the gravelly ground and replanting the grasses. Not to mention having to listen to the diatribe from the neighbor, that I placed the granite boulder in the wrong spot. I carefully watered the grasses until they were growing and looked like they would take hold. Now the grasses were mere stubs in the ground.
How could anyone mistake the tall graceful clumps of ornamental grass to common everyday weeds? Was he blind, using the weed eater as a seeing cane to clear his path? No, he just has no clue between the difference of a keeper plant and a noxious weed. The only reason our local groundskeeper is still walking without the need of a cane, was the look of horror and regret on his face, and his comment of “Oh s***” when I explained to him I planted the grasses on purpose that he just mowed down with his weapon of plant destruction.
He’s definitely not a botanist.
3 thoughts on “Definitely Not A Botanist”
So the heat did get to the poor fellow!
Is “ro-botanist” a word?
In this case I think it would aply