Poetic injustice. The irony that pokes you may be your own.

The world is full of ironies:  for example--I love crucifers. I love garlic and mustard--but when I saw the vast acres that garlic mustard (Alliaria petiolata) had smothered in the eastern woodlands in recent years, I was repelled by the plant. Of course, it would never grow in Colorado (I thought) we're so much drier...and a few years later I stumbled on a patch half way between my home and work. And just a few days ago as I walked (teacup in hand) through my garden, Lo! and Behold--what was that plant towering among my precious woodlanders? You guessed it: garlic mustard found its way into my garden.

And a day or two later I looked at this sign at Trader Joe's (again, about half way between my work and home on yet another route) and what should I spy?

I suspect that T.J.'s is only using REAL garlic and REAL mustard seed to produce this--but surely some entrepeneur could do the same with the pernicious weed: I can proffer a hefty clump for testing.

The irony of ironies is of course that much of my "renown" is due to my introducing exotic plants to American and world gardens--such as the first spate of Delosperma from South Africa to name the most obvious. For man years near-hecklers would interrupt my presentations here and there to grill me about the potential perils of my heinous act of plant introduction.

And I have no doubt that some of the plants I have collected may under some circumstance, somewhere, misbehave. It's not something I like to dwell upon. Is there a human action anywhere that doesn't have a negative consequence somewhere else? It's a variation on Newton's Law after all...

So perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that Alliaria has found her  way into my garden. Today I shall uproot her.

Now to see if I can't persuade a few of my friends to join me in uprooting that patch on Cherry Creek nearby: honoring social distance in the process. I hope I can report back on that before long.

Meanwhile you can relish a bit of irony, flavored richly with garlic and mustard as I look on and wince.