Quietly, so as not to be noticed

At this time of year, peace in the garden doesn't last for three days.
Just when I think the greenery has increased all at once, it's the work of the bush killer. It grows vigorously, entangling the surrounding garden trees and flowers. The only thing that doesn't lose to the bush killer is the chameleon plant. It, too, is gradually expanding its territory.

The other day, I read a theory that you should never pull on chameleon plants or bush killers. Apparently, if you stimulate the roots, it actually causes several new shoots to sprout. Could it be that by tearing them off or pulling them out as if they were enemies, I was actually helping them multiply? How terrifying.

Cut them from the base, quietly, so as not to be noticed.
That seems to be the trick.

I tried it out.
Like someone who has dropped something important, I push aside the thick leaves to search for the base.
I do think I should probably do something about the plants that are so crowded in this small garden that you can't even see the ground, but I'll leave that for now.

The chameleon plant is, well, fine. The problem is the bush killer. Tracing it to the base is frustrating. I find myself wanting to pull it. I peel off the tentacle-like vines that are tangled in circles while tracing them. I narrow my eyes and get as close to the ground as possible.
Is this it? This is it! Gently, gently now. Snip. I repeat this over and over.

As I go, I wrap the long-grown ones around my arm. As long as there is soil and water, even the smallest scrap will take root and sprout new shoots. I must handle them with care. There is even a tough one that came from beyond the boundary line of the neighbor's house. I have no choice but to reach out as far as I can and cut it. Gently, for now.

I sit down on the bench placed in the garden and let out a sigh. That's right. Even though it's a small garden, there's a bench in it. Who on earth put it there? It wasn't me. I zone out for a while. Come to think of it, this might be the first time I've sat on the bench. This is actually quite nice. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever sat down in the middle of a task like this before. Look at me, I've become quite relaxed, haven't I?

Just then, the face of the grandmother next door popped into my mind. The 81-year-old grandmother this year grows 200 cucumber plants all by herself. Every morning, she harvests about 300 cucumbers, packs them in boxes, and carries them to the market in a light truck. When she wakes up in the morning, she heads to the field while munching on a rice cracker. Whenever I see her, she is energetic and smiling.

Even though I thought it was amazing that I could now work for about two hours when I could only manage a maximum of one hour when I first started gardening, well, you know.

Having thought that, I'm done for today. I take off my gloves. I decide to sweep the front entrance while I'm at it. As I sweep, I happen to look down and see on the back of the hand holding the broom... there was one that had successfully sucked my blood and was plump and round. So this is what it means to do it quietly so as not to be noticed.