Einstein in my Garden

Penelope Torribio

I’am abandoning the classical physics
of Newton and Maxwell and embracing
the new physic and Quantum Mechanic;
for it seems that the elements of my garden behave
only as probabilities, not certainties,
and that time and space
can be altered by different reference frames.

And , OK, I will make this bold statement;
I have come to the belief that, in deed,
the viewer co-creates reality.
This is the only explanation for
the varied responses individual have
when they look from my back window
to the garden; the little garden where
I so carefully placed stones, bulbs, seeds and plants,
from home depot, into pleasing patterns.

I though everyone
would see this garden as I do.

But my grandmother looks out and sees
her father bending tenderly over new plants.
It is 1910. He tells her that
 “Plants are our best friends and
we are theirs, so we must treat each plant
with regard, even those we must thin out. ”

My neighbor see weeds and suggests weed killer.

Gerry, my husband, sees divas, and tells me of Findhorn.

My mother see the white gardenias,
the main flowers in her wedding bouquet, 1946,
missing the wild colors of the zinnias all together.

Auntie Flo see my husband’s Grandmother
and her award-winning irises that  she grew around the little house they build for her
in El Monte, 1953.

Four year old Aidan, looks out the window,
he doesn't’t see flowers at all, just a refuge for bugs.

Penelope Torribio

As a child I would have thought nothing of hold this long horned Sawyer beetle that
looks more like a seahorse or a dragon than a bug.  But I realized, as Aidan held this
beetle so carefully between his thumb and forefingers that I, personally, didn't’t want
to touch it. Why? What had happened to me?

Is it that I have seen too man Raid commercials where animated monster cockroaches
made me feel vulnerable, threatened my security?  I don’t think so.  I think it is more
fundamental than this.  It is the difference in the way children and adults see their world.

Children see themselves as part of their environment, they don’t question anything’s right to be there.  But as adults we become territorial.  We claim ownership.  We believe that we have the right to decide who and what comes in and out of our homes and gardens.  And just to make things a tiny bit easier, we declare entire classes of things as unwelcome—like bugs.  But do we really need to be protected from Sawyer Beetles? Not unless, for some reason, we want to keep that burned out stump in our backyard. I mean, these beetles have a purpose.  They hurry along the process of decomposition, clear out burned and fallen trees so new trees can grow.  OK, I’ve decided to touch the long horned Sawyer beetle; to recognize and respect its right to live in my world.  Hey!  I have an idea; let’s all do it.  Let’s all touch one; one, two, three go!