My ‘Stripey’ auricla is the first to bloom, the others don’t even have flower buds on them, so I consider it an early bloomer. I know from my gardening experience over the years that microclimates, where you’re situated on the side of a hill, in relation to morning and afternoon sun, etc. really determine growth and blooming times.

But what about people? I was always told that I was a late bloomer, but many of my physiologic milestones came early. In other ways, I was a stunted bloomer. Double tragedies, the deaths of our brother and mother, struck our family when I was in my early teens. We had poor coping skills. We moved to England in 1966, a great distraction from grief.




Somehow I always knew I’d bloom, but didn’t have a clue where or how. I stopped smoking and drinking in the late 80’s and things began to change. I survived my own health crisis in my early forties, went to Dominican for a nursing degree, then to Johns Hopkins, for a Masters in Public Health. There was great satisfaction in completing class after class, and it felt like I was growing up. I got a job that taught me even more than my formal education. If asked, I’d have said that yes, I had finally bloomed, later than most of my contemporaries, so a later bloomer.
Fast forward to now. I’m making these botanical images, have produced a book full of them, and I’m feeling great joy. My art has carried me through the pandemic, a white supremacist for president, and a wildfire that drove us from our home. I’ve fully bloomed!
And, of course, there’s always the next season’s bloom!
Wonderful commentary, Carol, so heartfelt. And the mandala reflects your upward journey beautifully!