At first they are manageable. I pull the wild mustard from swath alongside the driveway on my way down to the mailbox. After dumping those over the guardrail I come back and catch more as I go. Soon they are popping up all over. Stoop and pull every few feet; instead of beauty I see perversity. After the rain they pull out more easily but they grow faster, too. I’ve heard that they are edible, much like greens, but I have no taste for them. In the water garden near the house another yellow plant wants my attention.