2024/05/18

In the morning, I sprinkled herbicide in the garden. It was windy yesterday, and I gave up because it was about to hit me. It was mild weather today, so I finished the work with two bottles. This act against live weeds feels like a massacre somewhere, leaving a secret pain in the depths of my heart. I was standing in the garden as if I had become an executioner or a heartless soldier.

I feel that the smell of dokudami is somewhere ingrained in my body. The scent is like the last resistance of a living thing, and it evokes a momentary sentimental emotion in my heart. According to the weather forecast, it won't rain until Monday. If the sunny day continues, the effect of the herbicide will last longer, but if it rains, the effect will fade. That's why I keep an eye on the weather every day.

I feel somewhat insatiable that I have to repeat this slaughter twice or three times every year. Still, there is no doubt that weeds will grow again in two months. While thinking of such a future, I was quietly looking around the garden alone in the soft light of the morning.