the adolescent part of the summer

This is the adolescent part of the summer.

The time when all those cute little plants I put in the ground just over a month ago suddenly shoot up into lanky, gangly monsters that threaten to take over the garden in an angry coup. It is the time, too, when my garden tries to run wild beyond the boundaries to which I have confined it. And, it is the time when crabgrass, the acne of any lawn or garden, seems to sprout up overnight, forcing me to my hands and knees every morning.

Soon enough, though, the summer will come to a close and these "monsters" will begin to whither and fade. And, eventually, there will be fewer and fewer weeds until, they too, die out. And so, I tell myself, maybe this stage, like any adolescence, is something simply to be gotten through; something to be endured in order to reap the harvest at the end.