The tenacity of life

I spent yesterday clearing the bank of my plot of eons of roots. A couple of weeks ago, you'll remember (well, so I like to think, my obsession slowly becoming the focus of your life) that I spent HOURS (and hours and hours) yanking up the remaining life after the pros had removed the big stuff. Runners sprouting ivy and brambles, roots of the hawthorn and privet. It all came up.

Or so I thought. For yesterday - a mere 12 days, all be they rainy ones - later, I was there again, pulling up new growth. Granted, my initial attempt had been rather frenzied and I, obviously, didn't manage to remove the roots. Still. Who woulda thunk it? Pristine, fresh-faced little shoots popping up from below the surface, grinning maniacally at me. I have to admit, I was torn. The half that won (on the grounds of practicability) was the bit that knew that they had to go, to make way for the new planting. The half that was subverted was that which wondered at the tenacity of life. Isn't it incredible that, a JCB and my vicious hands wielding - variously - a fork, trowel and shears (and more than a little enthusiasm) were not enough to quell the spontaneous combustion of life? And even after yesterday marathon effort, for which my back and wrists will no doubt suffer for weeks to come, I can assure you that the next time I visit I'll see new shoots peeking through.

Isn't life astounding? It really does pain me to kill the blighters, but the reasonable nemesis of my tree-hugging self, thankfully, prevails in this case. Nevertheless, I'm awed by their ability to thrive in the most extreme conditions. And isn't this true of human life too? Think most of Africa - how on earth do women with a body fat percentage of 2 manage to reproduce, when the Western world struggles to fall pregnant at optimum health levels? How does someone with, apparently and medically, no hope manage to claw themselves back from death's door? Or step away from it suddenly, at the last minute, when all seemed lost and it seemed the only option? Is our life force, and that of our fellow living beings, so strong?

And if so, why are we not following the call of this strength and living life to its absolute max? In my case, that means shunning the reasonable and reaching for another glass of Merlot, booking another holiday we can't afford, spending Sunday afternoon playing Monopoly with the midgets. C'est la vie. Thank God.