Pulling garlic mustard as a gift for me and the earth
Stewardship Saturday with National Park Services at the Boston Harbor Islands; May 20, 2023
A bouquet of baddies, an invasive plant species, otherwise known as garlic mustard
I forgot who I once was.
The tiny familiar feeling of me came back as I sunk down in the plastic cushioned seats of the passenger train, unsure of whether to hop off or stay on the tracks. Stay for the confusing ride or go home to a bed of comfort? I’ve always been one to ride it out. After a 3o-minute delay of Boston trains and shuttle buses, there was yet another 30-minute delay on the commuter rail to Nantasket Junction. I was alone, traveling to the outer parts of Boston to Hingham, specifically to World’s End, a beautiful name for a working metaphor.
It was comforting to be nomadic again, as I have felt stuck in the city of Boston lately. I could hardly find two days in a row off that I could travel somewhere. I was reinvigorated with a sense of adventure on my day off work. One defining experiences of my life was taking an transcontinental trip across North America from west to east coast at the end of 2021. I felt a tiny, tiny spark of déjà vu while I let the greenery outside the window whip across my face. I was The Girl on the Train again. I really loved how it felt. It’s the concreteness and actual physicality of my travel experience of not knowing for sure of how things would turn out or if I would make it to my destination on time. I loved the impossibility for just a moment as it reminded me that with patience and comfort of my own being, that things can indeed be possible.. Do you, readers, get that feeling? I had that feeling. The good feeling dissipated without me knowing. Such sweetness is fleeting.
I planned this event as a gift to myself for my 25th birthday (It was in April.). Now that the weather was a little warmer, and I planned a month in advance for this day, my hopes were high. The late warm climate this time around had also been testing my patience, for I am used to having hot spring days have early in the year in my Texan childhood. It was already veering the end of May, and we only had a few warm-hot days. I know. I know… that this is the caveat to moving to New England. I must remind myself that in the end, I can’t have it all!
It rained. Although I anticipated having the hot sweats, they were replaced with cool, dewy perspiration as I worked on pulling garlic mustards from the wet ground. It was a different experience, but nevertheless even more sensory-fulfilling which I especially liked. Towards the last 10 minutes of our four-hour conservation effort, I pulled off my gloves and dug in with my bare hands. (I made sure to steer clear of poison ivy by working on a huge bed of garlic mustard, as I assumed none-to-few other plants would grow there.)
Garlic Mustards - Goodness?
Garlic mustards were brought from European countries to the Americas as a food crop. The problem here in World’s End is that there’s too much of it. It’s important that garlic mustards are pulled out, as they are an invasive species that take away nutrients and energy from other trees and native flowering plants.
I pulled away the roots and in the hours of it, I also tried to get to the root of my metaphor that came to mind—having too much of something that’s “good.” Goodness is circumstantial. I remembered in high school Spanish of the grammar rules of “BANGS” - Beauty, Age, Number, Goodness, and Size - putting these adjectives before nouns instead of after. It was my first time encountering the term “goodness,” what is “goodness?” Un buen hombre. A good man. Isn’t beauty and goodness subjective? How can these be in such a category along with the absolute ideas of numerals?
Then in college, I met the term “hegemonic” and the broad idea of linguistics. We define things as a society…
Linguistics and ecology are not really the same topics, but they are founded on the same parent idea of domination. It’s a weak metaphor, perhaps. In the soil though, having one too many of the same plant results in less biodiversity. Yes, perhaps there can be too much of a good thing. Maybe have a little room for other things to shine?
A Metaphor for My 25th Birthday
To tie back to my title of “having too much of something good” for ourselves, I believe there is no such thing. Sure, there are cautionary tales such as people who’ve made it rich and succumbed to the greed of men… Was their fortune any good, then? What is good?
As for me, I’ve tried as an artist to trade my precious time for deep metaphors. One can be a starving artist. One can be a martyr for art and choose to stay sad. But one can also be an artist that recognizes longevity and optimism in their own lives, their potential impact on other people, and more creative endeavors. It is possible to cultivate a good environment and to stay happy. My mentality had so much unlearning and childhood trauma to unpack. It’s dirty work, to accept the past and move on.
I used to be so afraid of when things started to get good. Nowadays, I’m learning to continue to accept the love I receive, because in the end, I recognize my potential and am so deserving of it. I’m learning to stay open, when I feel like closing up. I’m learning to not be afraid.
World’s End in Hingham, MA
My steward group
A cool rock I found in another rock
NPS Park Rangers and the people who braved the rain to the very end
my garlic mustard sketch