Kudzu n. An eastern Asian vine (Pueraria lobata) having compound leaves and clusters of reddish-purple flowers. It is grown for fodder, forage, and root starch, and is a widespread weed in the southeast United States.
When I was younger, most of my most imaginative thoughts revolved around G.I. Joes, Transformers, Big Wheels, Now&Laters (pronounced NahLaters) , and Kudzu. There was so much Kudzu in our backyard that I could create huge green filled fortresses that could hold a million-strong within its tight grip and keep a million-and-one out. It was a fantasy that Kudzu provided for me and I gave back religiously to it by protecting its vines from the dangers of the world, closely creeping in to slice and dice at its core.
The relationship between Kudzu and the world was tough and sterile, but my seven-year-old imagination made the connection seem powerless and frail. I had the power and the Kudzu needed me to protect it. I had the power and Kudzu needed me to stand tall. I had the power and no one could take it away from me. There was an impervious connection between the Kudzu vines and my own mental vines, and I would have done anything to protect that relationship.
One thought on “Kudzu”
This is a nice memory, not that the others aren’t but it banners the imagination of all our inner children- and I don’t mean that in a hokey, psycho babble sort of way. Like the child in us that still lights up at the sight of a carnival, stills ‘oohs’ at the fireworks and still resists the temptation to tell about the monsterous fish you almost caught!
I can’t imagine a sweeter memory than this! thank you!