A cauliflower grows

A cauliflower grows in my garden.

I say that because 1) the cauliflower is, indeed, growing in my garden; and 2) because it reminds me of the Joyce Carol Oates book "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn." I don't remember much about the story. What I do remember is that it was one of those books that I was sorry when it ended. I actually liked all of the books that we read in elementary and junior high school and find it fascinating to think about iconic books that we read as a culture. (I know, I know, it's not happening as much now and we have pause to wonder what the world is coming to.)

Still, because it's all about me (are we really so different from the 'me' generation?) and I'm enjoying looking back/reflecting on my formative years as insight for the present, I remember not liking the process of the school reading and I am wondering whether it was the outcome that I didn't appreciate. Was it that everything in the '60s was focused on the written word, the testing, the book report? Was it having to talk about it in class? Might I remember more of the story if I had incorporated what I knew in the arts?

Of course, I remember that sometimes I made a diorama and I don't remember that being engaging or inspiring either. Perhaps I was put off by the evaluation. Perhaps I was just shy. Perhaps I just need to re-read "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" and get reacquainted with the story. I imagine that it's even a movie I could watch.

Getting back to the cauliflower: in my garden there are four. And fortunately at least one of them is way behind the others. (Meaning it will be ready to eat after the others, thereby stretching the cauliflower season a bit.)

I love garden abundance!

I've been changing my screen saver for the past months, updating it as the season progresses. This is the one I be using for a couple of days. Lemon mint. It's doubly lovely because it is attracting the bees, a species that I worry about as it has been in decline, getting lost from their hives in the commercial world.

I'm hoping the screen saver picture reminds me that it's not necessary or even helpful to worry. Rather I move to revere, savor and shepherd our universe of expanding consciousness.

Last thought: if earthworms have consciousness, so do the bees. How about the mint?