Blackberries. Love to eat them. They add sweet juiciness to everything. But they’re invasive. Will take over. And highly flammable. These traits make them threats to urban areas.
We soldier against a blackberry plant. Never with pesticides. Cut it back. Dig it up. Last night, they returned, in my dreams.
I was outside our house. The dream house wasn’t like our real house. The dream house had walls with garden beds all around the house, up against the foundation. I liked the arrangement and was walking through, admiring it, when I discovered blackberry bushes growing in it. Wasn’t the ordinary blackberry growth, though, no. These blackberry branches were several inches thick. They were pushing out the cut end and had not leaves, stems, branches, or berries. They had large thorns, though.
I was appalled by what I saw and headed back inside to talk with my wife and make plans. To return inside the house required me to pass through a cafeteria-style cafe. Make sense? No, but this is dream land. A young woman with her infant was sitting down at a table with three friend. She was complaining about the blackberry bushes’ sudden appearance at her house. I stopped to commiserate and flirt. Yes, I flirted with blackberry bush invasions as my baseline, trying to launch off that to impress her with my charm, knowledge, and wit. Such a dream flirt, I am. It fell completely flat.
I hurried on to my wife. When I arrived in our home, she greeted me with her discovery of the blackberry bushes. Demands of how did this happen and what are we going to do followed. I explained that I’d just learned of it. She cut me off to tell me about the unusual growth. Yeah, I know, I basically responded.
Meanwhile, two young nephews were eating at the table. They had blackberry bushes and were joking about the growths and laughing. I tried explaining our concerns about them but they paid no attention.