A Barista’s Language of Flowers?

A confession. I spend too much time in coffee shops—a regular in not one but three of them. Last week a barista embellished my latte (see above). So far, my inner Rorschach has failed to connect the ornament to the usual suspects: exotic birds and plants. What do you think? To help jump-start your inquiry: a friend thinks it might be a poorly rendered cactus. (A less than welcoming plant—you can almost feel the prick.)

Are we witnessing the birth of a new genre? A barista’s analog to the language of flowers? (You know, yellow roses denote infidelity; the pansy cries out, “Think of me!”)  

So I drank the evidence, but thanks to my smart phone, here is the image. Share it with all whom you cherish and their six degrees of separation from me. And please remember, Wig & Pen is a family blog—its proprietor is no Anthony Weiner.