Southern Aster
This beach sunflower, or cucumberleaf sunflower, (Helianthus debilis) is a native to Florida, and many of its close relatives are natives to sandy and beach zones along the eastern seaboard. This one erupted here of its own accord and from a few small seeds has created almost a bush of delightful yellow flowers. New generations of stalk and leaf growing up atop older generations. There are three clusters around the yard, but the flower is ubiquitous in this xeriscopic landscape. Yards are being nudged back to native conditions, lawns drying up. Not everywhere, mind you, but you can see it. And the beach sunflower is one of its biggest proponents. In a land not known for its colorful native flowers, this plant bucks the trend and flowers throughout the year. Its flowers, when pollenated, produce an oily seed that is a delicious treat for birds and small animals. Yesterday nearby this cluster of sunflower I saw a green anole (the native one), a large one with vertical dominance over the territory of this flower. Native plants, native species. As an Aster, this beach loving-flower is part of the newest family of plants. Sunflowers, leaf lettuce, and that purple aster you remember from the fall roads in New England, are all a part of this flower's broad new family. Mostly leaf and stalk. Colorful radial flowers. They seem to enjoy their fact of living, wherever they are found. They nourish our stomachs and our imaginations. Here in this xeriscopic landscape, this individual plant cluster will find the space to flourish before its time runs out. It will live a life of life, as its smiling face attests.

And yet, death has become a second nature for us. Each day the tallies in the press are too much to bear, a dozen, another, this time hundreds, that time thousands. We cannot escape the burden of this war any longer. We cannot let this madness go on in our names and get woven into the media-fabric that comprises our notion of humanity. We must stop allowing ourselves to be lied to; we must stop lying to ourselves. Revenge only justifies revenge, it never works backwards. It takes a strong arm to be silent, it takes a big man to be gentle, it take real power to be peaceful. We need real power. A simple shift of priorities can lay new foundations quickly. Native thoughts can flow through native undergrowth. Humanity as life, not death, can flourish once again. The green anole claims its sunflower patch with a flaring of its neck. I have no conflict with him. No. I admire his technique.