This morning I realize that the post which I crafted yesterday afternoon is still in draft form, allowing me to publish it with no more effort than a deft click. So this one, in making up for the absence of yesterday's, will be the second one today.
Against the fence in the vegetable, I strip away some of the self-sown nasturtiums that drift over beds where they are not restrained. Weeds have begun to take over and, in clearing the ground for Autumn digging, I enjoy ferreting out the sinuous white roots of convolvulus (or bind weed), the smallest piece of which would become a sturdy climbing plant given the chance. These roots, like long white worms, have a special container to collect them like catch in a fisherman's bucket, as I can't trust them not take over the compost heap if they end up there. Despite their intrusive and pervasive habit, I think that convolvulus is the weed I can most easily forgive because of its immaculate bell shaped flowers.