A Rainbow and a sandwich: a day of hope and smiles

The Sophia Code: A Living Transmission from The Sophia Dragon Tribe

This is not an article about saving humanity. It's a piece about lunch. More accurately, it's a story about what happened right before lunch. But let's talk about food first. I ordered a sumptuous hot chick sandwich and my children had gobblers. The book you see is the Sophia Code, and it's one of my favorites. Two of out three of my kids can take time off their regularly scheduled or unscheduled activities to nosh and chill during day; the other is a highly motivated freshmen at a local public school. My other two unschool. As in an impromptu lunch is about as much structure as I supply. My son creates his own schedule for each day in the morning. My daughter does like Mama: whatever the eagle's nest she wants. I substituted eagles nest in that beautiful spot for an expletive because I am looking for less crass ways to express my incredible freedom from the desire to conform. My attempt to clean up my language without sacrificing freedom may or may not increase your hope for humanity, but if it does, so be it. At least the attempt makes me more creative. I've always admired comedians who can be clean and funny. It takes more, somehow.

I suggested the three of us go to Crema, a family favorite on the East Side of Madison, right before you enter Monona. You pass the lake to get there, and the street where Tony Robinson was killed by an officer, which is right near Willy Street Co-op East, where you can buy incense, organic produce and bulk yogurt covered pretzels. I'm not into yogurt covered pretzels, bulk or otherwise, but occasionally I look at them in the plexiglass case and stare. Is that rude? If you have ever looked at life from the vantage point of a yogurt covered pretzel, please weigh in.

Eventually, if go past all that, the road becomes less crowded and even changes names. Then you see a new part angle of lake on one side of the road, with a volleyball net, and sometimes you can spot bikers on the pathway that parallels the lake and canoes and paddles boards out on the water. On the other side the street is Olbrich Botanical Gardens. On a whim, it felt right to go, and the kids agreed it w should go first, before lunch. It's always harder for us to enjoy going after lunch, because once our bellies are full of Crema food, we almost always want to go home and be lazy.

As I pulled up into the parking lot, drove all the way around the abundant handicap spaces and found a perfect spot, our sun shone especially brightly, gracing the air with a crisp, delightful quality like liquid crystal: cool on the outside, yet warm on the inside. This sparking light seemed to add a glow to each scene available to absorb it, shining off the twinkling tree leaves, the buildings, the cheeks of people walking - everything in sight, like bath of unobtrusive sun light upon all, without exception.

We walked up the sidewalk toward a pot overflowing with the beauty of a living still life, wafting gently in the hint of a breeze, with tiny blue blossoms and pink flowers mixed with kale rippling like greenish purple lace, a dragonfly flew directly across our path. A good omen. I told the kids I thought it was a good sign. You have to walk into the lobby of the building in order to exit to the outdoor gardens, which are open to the public free of cost. My daughters have a long standing argument about reality that used to be heated and is now funny. They both have utterly distinct and different recollections of whether one of them used the bathroom in the lobby on a family outing to Olbrich.

Once you open the heavy doors to the gardens, you'll see an area with tables on the left, with a large brass sculpture of a tortoise reminding you to slow down. Or perhaps thinking of snapping off the arm of anyone who brings in Mcdonalds and litters it there. Ahead is a circular open field of grass, surrounded by a gray brick walk way that encases it. The sky above feels so round and expansive, it is easy to remember we are a little snow globe. Or flower pollen globe. Or birds shitting from the sky globe. Oh whoops. I meant to keep this clean. Okay, back to  the last one: It could also be fall globe, still partly green, with gorgeous multicolored leaves, really rocking out the the deep sunlit yellows. This fall has been about the yellows. Certainly I have seen red and the prettiest peach colored ones and brown ones mostly decomposed into little threads of earth-colored leaf-lace doilies - but by far, yellows are taken the prize.

Today in particular the yellows are stunning. The way the sun glints off the trees in my neighborhood is so beautiful I can't believe anyone can concentrate on anything else. As we took the path that heads left at Olbrich, most everything was still green. It was just barely yellowing at the tips. I almost feel like, against all odds, the three of us had somehow found ourselves in a semi-tropical oasis in the middle of October.

The first creature I saw was a cute little grasshopper. He's hiding in the picture below. Soon I spotted bees, dragonflies and a little girl wearing heart-shaped sunglasses. I complimented her on her love glasses. I think I need a pair of those. Her mother had purple hair. Gardens are full of color!

Up ahead, a water sprinkle was misting a display of lush greenery. In it was a glistening rainbow, and overhead white birds glided in graceful cuts across the sky.

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"It's a good thing that when God created the rainbow he didn't consult a decorator or he would still be picking colors." Sam Levenson

I gazed with glee at the rainbow for sometime. I mean, how often does a unicorn walk into a garden and there is quite literally a rainbow? If you can't see the horn in the pics, don't worry, I just have the invisible version on. I stared and stared, smiling at the rainbow until my children got bored. That beautiful light shimmering from the human spray of water sure seemed like a sign of hope. I mean, it was a human made rainbow; an ultimate expression of the hope we can have when human beings work with the elements of nature in a way that, with a small bit of luck and the ever-present grace of the angels, spouts innocent,
playful beauty, welcoming all to enjoy it without discrimination. It's even a free outdoor garden. It left an expression of wonder and gratitude on my soul.

The staff at Crema was having a rough day

At Creme you order first, then take a seat. As soon as we approached the counter, the young woman taking our order leaned in confidentially and said, "The kitchen staff is having a rough day. I told them you're here if they need some good energy."

Crema is a funny place. They have pictures of whimsical things made out of fruits and vegetables, a combination of square and rectangular wooden tables and old school long diner tables with trounded corners rimmed in silver metallic edges on the thick siding. As I sat down with my kids I noticed a picture of a banana and then I noticed another image next to it with what looked a banana impersonating an airplane. At first I shook off the impression and laughed with my kids. "For a second there, I though I saw a a flying banana, but it's actually and airplane." Then I looked closer. Upon deeper inspection it was a banana impersonating an airplane. Once we had settled in at our table, and were waiting for our food, the kids and I set about playfully engaging in "thumb peaces" - instead of thumb wars.

A little while later I looked up and saw in the distance toward the back of the counter space, a very cranky looking woman in a really cool-looking blue apron having a tense interaction with two of the other employees. I sent her some good energy from afar and kept having fun with the kids. A few minutes passed. And then she walked over toward our table and on to the door, opened it, then closed it. Upon her return approach, I complimented her cool blue apron, and smiled. She stopped, looked it and said, "I rather like it myself. But it belongs to Crema." There was some emotion there - was it resentment toward her employer - perhaps a lack of feeling of ownership over her work and the tools she uses for it? Who knows. But I said, "Well that can't stop you from rocking it out!" And smiled boldly. She cracked her hard exterior and laughed. She smiled, lifted her head high and said something along the lines of "Damn straight." I saw her smiling from behind the counter area for employees little later. In fact, I noticed that everyone in the cafe was smiling and laughing. Before we left, I went up to the woman who initially had clue me in that the kitchen staff was having a tough time of it, and offered a hug, which she gladly accepted. I it was one of those long, awesome hugs that make you glad there are good people in the world, on top of rainbows, great kids, yummy food and sun-dappled leaves.