Bean Counter

Our back yard doesn't have Yeats' nine bean rows, but we did relish eight good-sized beans grown right here, plus another 15 or so from Phil's friend Fred, with our supper tonight, and as you can see, we have more coming.

Magical, that transformation from gaudy scarlet flower to tiny fuzzy bean, and within days, to large, pick-me-now bean!

A few years ago, the women's choir that I sang in performed Eleanor Daley's setting of Yeats' The Lake Isle of Innisfree, which remains one of my most treasured memories of that time together. If you've never heard this lovely work, click here, and listen, eyes closed.

Tears come to mine, every time.

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