The garden has been usurped by bold and ubiquitous weeds. After a time away, our manicured terrain has become a veritable jungle, overrun with alien species, locusts and snakes. The lawn has been lopped back to a civilised length, but many of the flowerbeds have disappeared underneath insidious invaders. Stinging nettles have obliterated a bed of miniature Agapanthus at the edge of the forest, which threatens to creep and spill over into our unkempt garden in the form of a host of creepy plants and crawly creatures.
But now I face locusts on what remains of my Clivia leaves and I must be brave and take action. Fierce after an incident in traffic, I hose them off with blasts of water, the children helping as we take them on, one at a time in a mock war. I choose to avoid insecticide out of respect for our incredible bird life. Birds, unlike insects and weeds, are welcome to their fecundity in our garden. I love the loud “kok-kok-kok-kok” of the louries calling to one another, while I hope to catch a glimpse of scarlet in flight. The Long-crested Eagles shriek to their mates, competing with the hadedas.
