By April Drury

At first, we loved it. The vibrant purple splash that it added to the yard was something to behold. We had thrown it over in the corner under another tree right before a hurricane four years ago. Damn thing was so strong that it broke through the wooden pot that held it. Roots now firmly tethered. 

As the container rotted away over the years it quietly reached out wrapping itself around all the surrounding landscaping. The palms cried out as the jagged teeth raked over their tender parts. At a glance it was impossible to see the damage being done. For several years I simply walked by and pruned it occasionally. Taking pride in the fact that I was letting mother nature take its course. 

Then it got to be too much. It climbed up a neighboring tree and made its way to the roof. When it was time to look at it square in the face, I was shocked at how quickly it had advanced. Spread like a cancer. As I cut and pulled, I was astonished at the sheer volume. Two huge piles, filling the yard. All surrounding plant life had dutifully bent and twisted to accommodate this quiet killer. 

The realization that something could be so abusive to the rest of the plants was mind blowing. I felt proud as I dragged the piles the curb. I wasn’t ignoring it any longer. I had cut it out completely because as beautiful as it was, I had to protect the defenseless shrubs. 

Now I look upon my garden with pride knowing that I have tamed the wild beauty.