I went checking bean fields yesterday evening, scouting for spots with poor emergence. It was a beautiful sight driving backroads and seeing flowers bursting from the roadsides. By their appearance, you could tell where old homesteads used to be, where bulb flowers still appear season after season, bursting for years, generations, after the homesteads themselves were abandoned and show, now, only as blooming spots in open pastures or roadsides without lanes to homes leveled long ago. It’s interesting to see, still, the human touch of flowers lingering where nature reclaims the rest: a sign of beauty that outlives human structures. Maybe aspects of our lives, what we leave behind, are the same.