Mary with a Q and her Sunflowers

"Sunflowers are for sale at Ko`olau Farmers," she said, the woman who gardens between her unit and the sidewalk where Lilith and I sometimes walk on the way to Kahekili and the cemetery. She bought two and put them on the other side of her unit. She and her husband, who's a nurse, were going to visit family in California, but cancelled. He's still going east--his sister is in the last stages of ALS--luckily he'd been on leave recently when the COVID patient was at Kaiser, where he works in the ICU. He was going to take his sister and her German husband to Berlin for a last visit, but now there's no travel to Europe anyway. We said some things about Trump. She kept raking beneath her pine tree; she grows very large leafed plants that resemble taro but have vivid white lines on them. I told her about a pandemic gardens group on social media. When I asked how to find her, she said she's Mary Cortez with a Q. "Don't get wet," she said to Lilith and me, as we headed toward the cemetery, where it started to rain. When we got home, Lilith did her dance on the carpet to dry herself, and I sent a request to Mary's instagram. (If anyone has details of the gradening group, please let know. I saw it, but have no idea how to find it again.)