They grow in abundance along our road verges, they poke out from amongst the pebbles and stones of our garden paths, and they flourish as a truly wild backdrop to our formal planting. Weeds are everywhere; they are hardy, resilient and often quite beautiful.
I ask what a weed is and discover, as the American philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, it is a plant whose virtues have never been discovered. And these words ring so true as I marvel at the diversity of weeds popping up around my little garden, their pink or yellow flowers turned to the sun, leaves soft grey, almost delicate. Small honeybees stop by for a quick sip of nectar, en route to the flowering basil in the front yard.
Everything feels light and lovely, and I realise that through giving these weeds a lease on life, it has brought a certain wildness to my garden, a sense of raw edginess that is the true essence of nature, where plants and weeds co-exist in an elaborate dance of survival.