Yesterday, as I was watering my plants, I looked at Kale. She looked different, skinny. Once I finished the rest of my plants, I investigated. I discovered that she wasn’t skinny; she was skeletal. Leaving only the leaves’ veins, cabbageworms had decimated her curly crown. They littered her lower leaves with fecal matter. A glimpse into their future. I tried to pull them off, but they multiplied before my very eyes. I soon realized what I must do. I reached for her still mighty stem and pulled the plug. I caught myself truly sad. She was one of the few kale plants that survived transplanting. She recovered after some neighborhood kids uprooted her. She was the matriarch of the garden, elegant and beautiful. I conducted the funerary service in the compost pile. The next day, I scoured my beloved Makah Ozette potatos and found one concealed in the soil:

Fate was merciful. Swift.