I find myself returning home to a little bit of a bindi explosion on the lawn. The little plant thrives with some rain and sun here in Sydney. I hated it as a child, as you would run onto the lawn and suddenly you would have lots of their seed pods stuck in the soles of your feet. You have to pull each one off individually.

If you were running fast, you may now find yourself enclosed in the patch. You have to find each step out avoiding further pain.

I tried poisoning them a few years ago. With a specialist bindi killer. But that only kills the ones that are out. I have long since abandoned that approach and returned to the way my father did it. Pull each one out by hand.

Did I really try poison?

I look at myself and see so much of my father. He’d be always pulling out weeds in the lawn. Picking up things off the street and spotting orchids.

Practicing seeing is so important. As I wander the lawn, searching for the tiny particular leaves of the bindi to eradicate, I am reminded of dad and how important it is to keep practicing seeing.

Now, are there any more?

Photograph and text copyright © Len Metcalf 2019