I Need A Hero...

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.  ~Ambrose Redmoon

Today, Americans everywhere honored those who lost their lives or were injured in the horrific events of 9/11/01. The men and women who died in, or bear the scars from, New York, Washington D. C. and Pennsylvania will always be considered heroes.

As will those who worked the rescue and recovery during the attacks and in the aftermath.  And the officials who had to notify families of their loss.  And those who combed through the ashes.  And the people who cleaned up the ashes and rubble.  And the insurance investigators, claims processors, psychologists, etc. who helped those remaining try to get on with their lives.

 In my view, there are two kinds of heroes:  those who are victims of circumstance and those who jump into the fray.  Oh sure, the firefighters, police and other rescue teams get paid to put their lives on the line.  But how much is a life worth?  And what about the "civilians" who leaped into action to help?  Like the co-worker who dragged his colleague down seemingly innumerable flights of stairs to safety?

I remember reading about one survivor of the Twin Towers attack who, because of injuries, had to sit in a stairwell and wait for someone to help him.  He said a couple of people ran right by him--one of them he knew from work.  The third person who came by, helped him down the stairs and out of the building--just seconds before it collapsed.  The Good Samaritan--turned Good New Yorker--2000 years later.

There are lots of heroes really.  Smoke jumpers parachute right into the line of fire to help stop, contain or prevent wildfires.  They save all kinds of lives--human, animal and plant.  Honestly, in my opinion, death by fire has to be the worst way to go.




 And there are heroes who face dangers in their jobs to provide food and other necessities of life.  For instance, fishers who battle temperamental oceans to bring seafood to our tables.  Well, not my table.  Blech!  But you get the point.  According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, fishers and fishing workers ranks as the 3rd most dangerous job.  Logging workers and aircraft pilots are 1st and 2nd, respectively.

Now, these are truly the most unsung heroes.  Refuse collectors/recycling workers ranks 5th as most dangerous job.  Not dirtiest (sorry Mike Rowe)--most dangerous!  Kind of gives you a little different perspective, doesn't it?


Heroes come in all shapes, sizes and colors.  To the Little League player, Daddy or Mommy is the hero for making it to the ball game.  Considering how Corporate America requires a person to give their lives to the company, that parent probably is the Greatest American Hero.

It is surmounting difficulties that makes heroes.
Louis Pasteur 

Weeds are nature's graffiti. ~Janice Maeditere

A few days ago, the temperatures dropped into the 70's.  The first day or two, my allergies and asthma flared up and I wasn't up to doing anything.  But on the third or fourth day, I took a notion to go out and do some weeding.  There was a section of front yard under an evergreen that the lawn service didn't mow.  I guess because a third of that area has Tiger Lilies growing.  Anyway, I grabbed my gardening gloves and my pruners and headed out.

The weeds were near 4 feet tall.  And there was quite the variety there.  It bugged me a little that I didn't know the names for most of them.  I worked for a good solid hour or more on a patch of land about 7 feet by 4 feet.  It felt good to be productive.  I ached for two days after, but it sure looked nice!

But not knowing what those weeds were still nudged the back of my mind.  So I looked them up.  Oh, I knew some of them: thistle, clover and creeping charlie.  I love to learn new things and research them, so this was not work for me.  I found the names for the following weeds:

Henbit: a cousin to mint

Mallow:  Hollyhocks evil cousin

Ragweed:  'nuff said

Wood sorrel:  a member of the shamrock family

Black Medic: a thrifty little yellow-flowered clover

Cocklebur:  One of the hardiest weeds known

I had never seen Cockleburs in our yard before.  There were only two plants in that weedy mess, but they were the worst to deal with.  I was so glad that I was wearing my super-duper gardening gloves!  I was able to easily pluck off the few burs that stuck to my gloves and shirt.

An interesting little project--at least from my point of view.  With Autumn moving in upon us, I also cleaned the dead lily stalks and cut down the dead peony stalks. I think I left my summer daze behiind me--for now.

I always think of my sins when I weed.  They grow apace in the same way and are harder still to get rid of.  ~Helena Rutherfurd Ely, A Woman's Hardy Garden, 1903