Chocolate covered strawberry

My strawberry beds are usually a source of pride for me in the summertime, but this summer I couldn't look at them without feeling guilty and ashamed .  I didn't have the time to weed them or mulch them, so they became choked up with couche grass, mugwort, st. John's wort, nettles and dandelions.  You name it, it was in there.  The poor fruit struggled to compete, and the crop wasn't half the size of previous years. 

The compost was so rich it really did look like the very best dark chocolate, so what better than chocolate and strawberries.  I gave the first barrow load to the strawberry bed in my long allotment, because it was the least I could do to make up for its suffering throughout the gowing season. 

It first needed thorough weeding, and that was no small task.  In fact I can safely say it was the most horrible weeding I have ever had to do, and I've done a fair bit of it.  The weeds were so firmly attached to the ground.  The worst things to remove were hundreds of small sycamore seedlings with hideously long tap roots.  I had no idea where they had come from, as I could see no sycamore tree nearby.  There is an aspen that drops thousands of fluffy catkins everywhere in the spring, but these were definitely sycamore because a few of them were sprouting healthy identifiable leaves. 

Once weeded, I thoroughly covered the strawberry bed with a generous helping of chocolate compost, and was well satisfied. 

I had noticed the strong gusts of cold wind as I worked.  The sound they made together with the quality of the air reminded me of being on Dartmoor.  As I was having a break from the barrowing, there was another strong gust, and I watched as hundreds of brown sycamore seeds gently fluttered down, rustling through the air onto my freshly weeded and composted beds. It reminded me of Milton's description of Satan's army in Paradise Lost.

I got up to look in the direction they had come from, and at once saw the culprits - a group of sycamore trees on the land next to my plot.  They were easily identifiable by the huge clusters of winged seeds hanging from their branches.  It may have been just my imagination, but to me they seemed to be sniggering like a group of wayward teenagers. 

Well at least I knew what was going on now, as I'd seen it with my own eyes.  I had no choice but to walk round and gather up every member of Satan's horde into a plastic bucket, where they will wait to be burnt on the Yule bonfire. 

It's something I will have to do more than once I'm sure, judging by the number of seeds still hanging from those trees.  Time to go and buy the bargain net curtain fabric in the market to place over the beds at this time of year, so I can just gather the seeds up all at once for burning.