The resilience of weeds
When I first acquired a farmyard in Yangdae-ri, nestled in Ipjang-myeon of Cheonan, decades ago, I had grand visions of cultivation. After much deliberation, I decided to plant mugunghwa — the rose of Sharon, Korea’s national flower — persimmons and chestnuts, along with various garden and ornamental trees. I imagined the property transforming into a vibrant rural canvas in spring, painted with…
Decades ago, when journalist acquired a farm in Yangdae-ri, located in Ipjang-myeon of Cheonan, South Korea, they harbored ambitious plans for cultivation. They envisioned planting mugunghwa, the Korean national flower, persimmons, chestnuts, and various ornamental trees. Their dream was to see the property flourish with vibrant colors of wildflowers and fruiting trees during springtime. However, farming reality proved far different from their initial expectations.
The initial burst of beautiful blossoms that journalist anticipated proved to be short-lived. They quickly faded away, much like their arrival. Instead of the anticipated vibrant display, the farm became overrun with relentless growth of weeds. Despite their determined efforts to clear them, each visit to the farm felt like an endless battle against the soil.
Bent over under the scorching summer sun, journalist sweated and grew increasingly frustrated as they ignored the understated beauty of these wild plants. Their focus was solely on ripping them out by their roots, questioning their existence and purpose. "Why does this useless grass even exist? What could these troublesome weeds possibly serve?" they wondered.
As time passed, the question remained unanswered, but the relentless cycle of weed growth continued unabated.
Written by urgent.news from The Korea Times's reporting — not their text. Machine-written — may contain errors; check the original before relying on it.
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- The resilience of weeds koreatimes.co.kr
