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Pruning Shears Warfare

The day dawned gray and overcast. There was no breeze, and all was quiet. It was a good beginning. I made myself ready, and waited. Who knew what this day would bring forth when all was finished?

I headed to my garage, and gathered my tools. I armed myself with pruning shears of various sorts, and last, my trusty cart. Then, with some measure of trepidation, I moved forward to my battleground.

The brush was dense. Dead wood and rotting leaves created a pungent smell. My nose wrinkled. I hesitated, took a deep breath, and plunged inward. Repelled by branches, I pulled out my shears and began to cut. My incisions were precise and firm. My confidence soared! Progress was at hand! Soon I saw my foe ahead of me, towering overhead. I approached with caution. Quietly, I moved. Gathering my strength I crept forward under the bushes, reconnoitering my enemy's position. This was going to be a lot tougher than I had calculated! Time to retreat and regroup!

Help was waiting, ready to assist in my fight. I consulted with my lieutenant and formulated my plan. My attack would be direct and quick! I made ready our site, clearing away all debris that would hamper my efforts. I knew that I had the upper hand. Victory would be certain.

The battle raged. I tugged, pulled, and sprayed. I sliced and cut with precision, but still the enemy held the high ground. Retaliation! I felt the touch of my enemy, and fell back. It was a glancing blow.

Time for my secret weapon! My lieutenant passed over my saw. With my first strike, my enemy lay mortally wounded and dying. Now all that remained was to gather the remnant. I was hot and sweaty and tired, but jubilant! Little did I know that there would be a hidden cost.

Hours after victory, I felt the sting from my valiant foe! My arm began to fiercely itch! Welts and blisters began to form. With a sure diagnosis, I realized my fate. Alas, I, who had so long been immune, was stricken!

My pride suffered a serious blow. I had been so certain that I was invincible! I had swaggered and laughed and felt a certain disdain for those who had fallen before me. Now, I was brought low, humbled. For you see, Poison Ivy is a worthy foe!

Learn more about this author, Linda G. Hull.
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