Misconceptions About Invasive Species – by Karin Sidaway (Adult)

It rained heavy for three days and then the dandelions shot up across the pasture like synchronized swimmers executing a simultaneous lift. One day the field was a rolling stretch of green and the next it was awash in a vibrant sea of gold. The joggers, early morning speed walkers, and yoga pants-wearing mothers pushing two seater baby strollers along the sidewalk would shake their heads and comment that ‘something ought to be done about those weeds,’ but Tucker thought they were quite pleasant to look at. In the winter, everything was cold and white. In the early spring, wet and green. But in that awkward transition between May and June, temperature creeping upward and days growing longer, there was that bright rush of warm yellow to look forward to. No, Tucker didn’t agree with those fleeting pedestrians who hurried past the fence with their rose-colored sneakers, high ponytails, misconceptions about invasive species, and mower-trimmed lawns. He didn’t agree with them at all.
Across the street, which was little more than a two lane thoroughfare separating the farm folk from the big city burnouts seeking redemption in the countryside, was a golf course. A brand new behemoth of green. No blade higher than regulation 0.125 inches. It seemed to Tucker a great waste of space. He only ever saw the same four fellows in their checkered shorts and knit polos. And at the height of the summer it was empty. It was nicer when the grass was high. When Polly lived there, grazing on what would become the seventh green. Before the city folk arrived. Back when everything from Potter’s Mill to Oak Crest flushed in the glow of gilded florets.
At least he had his own pasture to admire.
The next day the farmer hammered a sign onto the fence. Coming soon! Luxury Clothing Outlet and Golf Supply. The joggers were ecstatic. Finally! Something would be done about those yellow eyesores.
Tucker still didn’t agree. He shook his mane and ate a thick patch of dandelions. Nothing tasted sweeter.


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Learn more about the contest which inspired this story:  Nutshell Narratives 2019-03
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