This evening I braved the wilderness that is also known as our garden. Only having half an hours energy left at the stump end of the day, I knew I'd have to "pick my battle". The victims were an overgrown bush that looked like a hairy sputnik and a self planted tree/stump/pruned-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life something or other.
The bush is now sporting a topiary type shape, more due to my lopsided use of the shears than through design and the stubborn tree is gone. Seriously gone.
Having got rid of the rubbish, I noticed the terrifying rose which insists on growing every year. This year the stem was about 5 foot tall, with the most exquisite bud at the top. It had been leaning against the now Gone Tree. The briar had to go too. As I was cutting it down, I remembered that last year I'd done the the same thing, and was convinced I had killed it for good. No such luck.
But I have been transfixed by the bud. In spite of that drastic prune in 2010, the stump managed to grow something, and it was exquisite.
I may resist less in future when I sense my character is being pruned. The outcome may be a small and ravishing flower.