December 19

The town plow knocked over most of the reaching brown stalks of the knotweed on Route 122, those that just two months ago were yet green. The leaves had since fallen away, leaving the drying stems bare and searching, leaning across the guardrail on the north side of the road and taking advantage of the small shoulder there.

Now most of this is destroyed, made so by the rolling wave of snow as it came off the angled plow blade, arcing across the rail and hitting these plants with such force. They lie broken amid the slushy pile, down below in the wetland basin just off the shoulder.

By chance a small series of branches remained, and even more surprising is that their dried seed pods still clung to the brown limbs – small, 3 winged things, there were perhaps a dozen or so that fluttered gently in the breeze made each time a car came passing by.