In the weeds


It’s not unheard of for me to spend time “in the weeds,” in the sense of being “immersed or entangled in details or complexities,” but living in the city of Valencia where whatever weeds there are don’t fall under my care, I haven’t spent any time lately among actual weeds.

At my family reunion this week, though, there were plenty. There’s a nice stretch of lawn for our nightly volleyball games (an earlier post, Hold onto your shorts, gave you a window into those), and beyond that there’s a wide swath of wilderness that eventually becomes a bluff dropping off to the narrow beach beside Pineview reservoir. We get in among those weeds frequently, to rescue the volleyball when a serve or a hit has gone wild. But a few days ago El Guapo got into the weeds with his camera, and he found quite a lot hiding there that we had all overlooked.

From a certain distance, things do look very weedy.


Getting closer, though, the picture is quite different, and to me, a lot more interesting:



Here are a few of the things that make retrieving the volleyball a challenge:




Though I often walked by all that wildness on the way down to the water, I hadn’t noticed all the blossoms:





nor all of the wispy things:



I don’t know what these are, but I love them:


Most of our attention each evening is captured by the volleyball, and everyone’s efforts to hit it just right:

Ninja aloft (Fiddler, far right)

Danny, about to make a great play


Before or after the volleyball games, it wouldn’t be a bad thing for me to save some attention for the beauty of my surroundings, especially if I’ve initially dismissed them as nothing but weeds.

Getting down in the weeds in a metaphorical sense is sometimes viewed as a way to get bogged down or to lose your perspective, but as I was reminded this week, getting down into the actual weeds can open you up to pleasant surprises. Just watch out for all the prickly things.




[Images by El Guapo]





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