A few more minutes pass. I want to get up and knock on the driver's-side window and ask him to cool it, but I don't because I'm a flatlander/out-of-towner and I've already passed my confrontation limit for the month. Besides, we were almost done eating when the truck showed. The flavor of the fossil-fuel fumes only marred my last savorings of turmeric rice, avocado, poached eggs, black beans, Vermont cheddar and green chile sauce -- the gently melded ingredients making up the sublime Brunch Bowl.
The guy in the idling truck, I bet, harbors a good bit of anger. He's found a clever way to release it on a bunch of pansy-assed, vegan liberals who deserve it because we want to stop him and other patriotic Americans from owning guns, praying without masks, building walls (which make good neighbors) and burning stuff to make the world go around. Plus, he's supposed to feel bad now for grilling animal meat and gnawing on it, like that's destroying the world or something? He's supposed to eat a goddamned Brunch Bowl?! Well, fine, isn't that America today in all its red vs. blue glory. Or gory. What interests me isn't so much the man's unneighborly behavior, but the load of buckthorn that, we'll assume, he'd spent the morning yanking from Mother Earth.
Extremely hardy, indeed. In fact, they remind me of a certain stubborn species I've encountered...humans! Hardy humans, expanding madly across the planet. Indeed, perhaps the human species has become the most invasive species on Earth, unnaturally expert at overwhelming biospheres with powerful growth and defensive powers. Buckthorn, however, is invasive by virtue of having been moved by Homo sapiens from its original habitat, where it coexisted in relative balance with the flora and fauna with which it co-evolved. Here it doesn't fit and runs amok. Humans, by contrast, are invasive by virtue of our intellect and opposable thumbs, not necessarily in that order. We run amok everywhere. And so far, plants and animals have displayed no ready response to our vigorous dominion, unless you consider climate change as a total-systems response to our onslaught. It'll take awhile, but we'll cook them out. For more on these theories, see two provocative books: The Revenge of Gaia by James Lovelock (2006) and Defiant Earth by Clive Hamilton (2017).
It's also worth noting that buckthorn can't help but act like buckthorn. It doesn't realize that it's dominating and destroying its unfamiliar surroundings. It can't stop itself. Humans, on the other hand, now have a very good idea of what we're doing to Earth's biospheres and civilizations. We can stop ourselves. But, so far, we won't. We just won't.