Invading my palace!
Wither in summer
Returning with malice!
Without poisoning with herbicides, we live plagued with the non-native "Bermuda buttercup" forever. Delicate sunny yellow flowers dancing with the slightest breeze arise from narrow grayish white tubers beneath the soil. They are edible, but their vinegar tang on your palate might be dog pee, so widely does it spread across our yard, ganging up on all else that grows, infiltrating within forests of stems. Oxalis petals close graciously when sunset falls. You can pull them up by their roots, each and every one, and they will grow back with a vengence more thorougly and thickly the next year. For those of us living in Sonoma County, oxalis is our Myth of Sisyphus. We are not the condemned man destined for eternity to roll a stone uphill to find, upon reaching the summit, the stone rolls down, as stones will do, but over and over. We must uproot oxalis until Apollo's cows come home, or let it live and die back, as it will.
Cows probably enjoy oxalis, and won't mind that seabreeze of vinegar. That's an idea...
