Though you may be familiar with the story of Sisyphus from Greek mythology involving a boulder, my version involves a 10-gallon nursery container of black bamboo (Phyllostachys nigra).
According to mythical legend, Sisyphus was a Greek king punished in death for his deceitfulness with the endless and unavailing task of pushing a boulder up a hill only to watch it tumble down again as he neared the top–an eternity of frustration.
In some grossly overblown way, I think Sisyphus would feel my pain, hauling buckets of water to an ever-thirsty bamboo as I do on a near nightly basis. If I sunk it into a swimming pool, I’m positive it would wilt by evening.
Of course the easiest way to end my condemnation to hydrological eternity would be to just plant the damn thing. But my plans for a bog, sterling and firm last fall when I inherited this bamboo from my gardening friend Rosemary, seem to have fallen through. So without any immediate home, I’m sure I’ll continue to prolong its plastically confined existence one 5-gallon dousing at a time.
I’m beginning to think a boulder wouldn’t be that bad.