Goodness is a special kind of truth and beauty. It is truth and beauty in human behavior. ~ H. A. Overstreet

Love’s Labor’s Lost, one of three plays performed as part of Shakespeare Santa Cruz 2010 ~ now in its 29th season ~ opened July 21 in the Festival Glen, a natural amphitheater in the redwoods of University of California, Santa Cruz.

Directed by Tony award-nominated Scott Wentworth,

Love’s Labor’s Lost is Shakespeare’s most profoundly Elizabethan comedy, replete with witty debates, dazzling wordplay, and strongly drawn comic characters.

The play is set in Navarre, a kingdom devoted to the quest for self-improvement through bookish study. The king’s youthfully naive self-imposed command not to allow the distraction of women into the court is all but shattered with the arrival of the Princess of France and her feminine entourage.

The men, who had vowed to avoid all women in favor of intellectual pursuits, immediately fall head over heels and begin finding ways to allow the power of love to take its natural prominence over learning and the affairs of state. But the realities of life finally intrude on the revelries.*

The relaxed atmosphere and park-like setting of this outside venue invite theatergoers to enter into another world for a few brief hours. Many families, enjoying this regional cultural treasure, bring a picnic lunch and recline on blankets on the forested slopes. Glen tickets are reasonably priced so more of the public is able to attend performances here and benefit from the offerings Art provides.

As the 2007 commencement address speaker at Stanford University, award-winning and internationally acclaimed poet Dana Gioia presented an impassioned argument for the value of the arts and arts education:

Art is an irreplaceable way of understanding and expressing the world—equal to but distinct from scientific and conceptual methods. Art addresses us in the fullness of our being—simultaneously speaking to our intellect, emotions, intuition, imagination, memory, and physical senses. There are some truths about life that can be expressed only as stories, or songs, or images.

Art delights, instructs, consoles. It educates our emotions. And it remembers.

Due to underfunding, Shakespeare Santa Cruz almost closed its doors last year. However, thanks to efforts of theater lovers and donors from far and near who recognize the value of Art (read Donor Notes), Shakespeare Santa Cruz survived and continues to inspire and educate young and old alike.

* Text from website of Shakespeare Santa Cruz.

Formerly Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, Dana Gioia currently directs the Harman-Eisner Program in the Arts at the Aspen Institute.

There’s something beautiful about an old watering can, but it’s got to be a metal can, nothing plastic that predictably hardens, chips, and discolors uniformly with age. No, only real watering cans have Shibui. They have character because there’s something endearing in their unique scruffiness.

We could analyze the Shibui of a watering can ~ a Japanese term loosely defined as the “aesthetic of simple, subtle, and unobtrusive beauty” ~ and come up with some plausible reasons why we especially like it. Its shape. The way it feels. Its function. Or the familiar and easy partnership gardeners share with their trusty water carriers, who’ve seen them through many a physical and emotional drought. But this wouldn’t paint the whole picture.

Although worn beauty is difficult to define precisely ~ be it visible on leather purses, hats, furniture, or watering cans ~ it is easy to recognize. And that’s exactly the point: there’s something mysterious about an aspect we all agree on but cannot define.

This week’s image ~ above right ~ Lilac Watering Can.

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.” ~ Sam Keen

I don’t know whether nice people tend to grow roses or growing roses makes people nice. ~ Roland A. Browne

After meeting Tessa Sabankaya, owner of Bonny Doon Garden Company – which recently moved from its kiosk location outside Bookshop Santa Cruz into Fair Street New Leaf Community Market – I’d opine that nice people tend to grow roses.

And grow roses she does, along with scores of other flower varieties in her expansive garden glen in the Bonny Doon redwoods.

The exquisite art of nature—the play of light on plants, flowers, and intriguing organic shapes—has entranced me since childhood. Even today walking through a lovely garden leaves my heart and soul rejuvenated. ~ Tessa Sabankaya

Employing an intuitive sense of aesthetics, she combines knowledge of flowers and herbs with an understanding of the Language of Flowers to fashion bouquets that not only please the eye, but intoxicate the nose and quicken the heart.

I am personally drawn to her precious fragrant posies, which recall bygone days and an old-fashioned rhyme we chanted as children:

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We’re all tumbled down.

If Tessa’s floral designs spark a desire to engage your own creativity, you’ll be happy to know that she offers garden workshops several times a year. The next one is scheduled for late November, giving you ample time to dream up a decorative arrangement for your holiday table.

All Tessa’s flowers are organic and sustainably grown “to honor and preserve the natural environment from which we draw our inspiration.” Another reason why I believe nice people tend to grow roses.

Roland A. Browne is the author of The Rose-lover’s Guide – A Practical Handbook On Rose Growing.

The first printing of the Ring-a-ring-a-roses rhyme appeared in Kate Greenaway’s 1881 edition of Mother Goose.

Have you ever come upon an iridescent rose or is there even such a thing?

While photographing the private garden of a neighbor early one foggy morning, I discovered a blossom with a pearly luster similar to the soft yellow pastels of an abalone shell.

This week’s image ~ Bonny Doon Iridescence ~ conclusively answers our opening question in the affirmative.

For him in vain the envious seasons roll
Who bears eternal summer in his soul.
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

Frequenting our downtown Farmer’s Market in the summer is a savory affair, especially if you’re a tad hungry and in need of a jolt of energy, which is where bite-sized fruit samples come in. Enjoy the juicy blast of organic orange, strawberry, cherry, blueberry, plum, peach, or nectarine, and your taste buds will talk you into buying as much as you can afford.

I did just that and found myself ruminating on the exotic flavor of a nectarine over breakfast one morning.

The nectarine is a cross between a peach and a … and a …

I really didn’t know!

Come to find out that the nectarine first appeared on the peach tree as a bud sport ~ a fruit clearly differing from the rest of fruit on the plant, which can be grafted as a cultivar to grow new plants that retain this genetic difference. Something to think about for sure, especially if you consider yourself somewhat of a purist but prefer the taste of a smooth-skinned white nectarine to that of a fuzzy peach.

Botanists have traced the peach to China, as the tree is mentioned in Chinese writings dating back as far as the 10th century BCE. The nectarine first appears in English literature around 1600. Poet Andrew Marvell wrote about it in his idyllic poem, The Garden:

What wondrous life is this I lead!
Ripe apples drop about my head;
The luscious clusters of the vine
Upon my mouth do crush their wine;
The nectarine, and curious peach,
Into my hands themselves do reach;
Stumbling on melons, as I pass,
Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.

So my simple breakfast rumination ~ like all ruminations ~ opened a window of knowledge … and made eating nectarines a little bit sweeter.

Were I an oil painter, I’d gain inspiration from a quote by Stanley Horowitz:

Winter is an etching, spring is a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

to single out this sunflower for a portrait. Flinging her tresses to the wind (for she’s capricious by nature), she might feel self-conscious posing statue-like for our sitting. But no matter: with a camera I can capture her summer blush in an instant and retain it forever.

This week’s image ~ above right ~ July Sunflower.

Many thanks to my friend Kim for her 4th of July rainbow bouquet, from which July Sunflower sprang.

In all natural things, there is something of the marvelous. ~ Aristotle