Wild Bergamot

We are at the place in summer where every day some new plant stands out along the state park trail. The flowers are particularly familiar. They provide assurance there is a world outside human endeavor that persists and blooms.

It is another hot Sunday afternoon as I write, with the heat index approaching 100 degrees Fahrenheit. To play it safe, I did outdoors work this morning then headed inside. It never really cooled off overnight and the ambient temperature was in the 80s by 9 a.m. For a change, I got through my digital and physical inboxes and accomplished a few non-garden related tasks.

The news from Washington, D.C. is grim. It looks like the U.S. Senate will pass their version of the reconciliation bill later on Monday. There is no way to describe it other than a theft from the less well off to benefit the wealthiest in their gilded enclaves. The absurd budget cuts being made, combined with running up the national debt, could transform the United States into something unrecognizable.

I am aware nothing is permanent in politics. I am also aware of the 1890s Gilded Age and the comparison with what’s going on today. I don’t see anyone like Theodore Roosevelt coming along with a square deal for all of us. The absence of moral courage among so many is what makes today so grim.

I haven’t given up hope. I continue to do what I can to make the world a better place, beginning with a garden harvest today, some of which will go to the local food pantry. We must be brilliant like the wild bergamot that yesterday made its first appearance of the year on the trail. Reaching for the sky we display our color unabashedly. Belying the many uses to which we can be put once our blooms finish.

It is a hard tonic to swallow that the wealthy are gathering up the produce of our lives. We shall, however, persevere… and return next year.