A battle ensued. The individual edible flowers were interconnected with “tendons” that anchored them to the spiky peel and pithy center, and I had to slice and tug and rip and curse to get the flowers out.
I reached the sanctum sanctorum. A perfect ball of fluff made from a piece of jeans insulation interwoven with black cat hairs. The hole hollowed out of the center provided a soft and warm place for the architect to sleep.
Everyone can relate to family, home, friends, and wanting to be part of something bigger. And losing your way and finding that wise inner voice that guides you.