I have the good fortune to work in a lively and lovely metropolitan city. Downtown is clean, safe, and reasonably-sized – and it has some cool areas in it.
Today I was walking in the city, and got to move through a building that looks like it was constructed in the 1940’s – and the owners have maintained the building to remain true to its’ original state. The walls are gilded gold, the floors are marble and tile, the hardware has a funky antique-y feel to it – the building even has an elevator with a hand-crank door that is operated by a super-cute elderly lady (i.e., she’s in her 80s) who wears a uniform, complete with white gloves. It’s cool.
Anyway, as I turned the corner to enter the building, I came upon this:
The picture doesn’t do this potting full justice; from base to tip, this arrangement stood at least 6 feet tall. (No exaggeration.) The impressive size, the amazingly vibrant colors, the vitality of the blooms themselves, and the beauty of the context in which this potting stood, created the “perfect storm” of awe and wonder in me. For half a second, I felt as though I had taken a step back in time –I felt like I experienced a moment from decades past. It was pretty amazing.