Hawthorn Hill Journal by Richard deRosa Of Garlic, Bluebirds, Bees and Yeats This is a time of year that I always look forward to—garlic harvest and drying time. The act of harvesting the garlic, brushing each bulb and then tying bunches of five together with an extra loop for hanging in the barn, has always been a cathartic, even deeply contemplative time for me. I cannot remember why I’ve stuck with five. It just feels right. And the few times…