Overgrown

Up at our local farmyard there's a rusty old Ford tractor that sits at the edge of the field. Ted always points and shouts 'up!!!' until I lift him up to sit on the top of the wheel.

I don't actually think it's been there that long, farmer Anthony tells me he's meaning to get it moved, but somehow I doubt it'll happen. But nature has a way of moving in and taking over when anything is left, even only for a matter of months. This bindweed is already making a play for the tractor; it'll be totally covered before very much longer I'd guess.

When we lived in Brunei we'd often be amazed and a little terrified by how all-consuming the jungle could be, reaching its tentacles across roads, towards houses, but it strikes me now that British plants aren't that different. If the hedges weren't trimmed, if grass wasn't mown, how quickly would all mankind's work be swallowed up by plants? A bit scary to dwell on for too long (must mow the lawn soon!).