Every morning
I’m greeted with a fresh vase of flowers on my desk from my boss's garden. Today’s
holds one bright orange flower - he loves me, he loves me not petals surrounding
a fuzzy red center. The smaller petals in the middle are deep orange, the
larger petals beneath are more faded, as if the color forfeits its intensity as
it spreads. Purple flowers that remind me of caterpillars are arranged behind
it. There are also three large leaves forming the bottom
layer of the arrangement. Pale yellowish olive green, with translucent lines
like on the palms of my hands.
I have this strange urge to take a deep breath every time I
see a beautiful flower. When I walk through the community garden near my apartment,
I’m afraid I’ll one day hyperventilate. But I think I’m just trying to breathe
in the fresh and innocent beauty (those tea bags for the dark bags under my
eyes are not working their magic anymore). The tall sunflowers in the garden have
been especially enchanting lately. Isn’t there just something about sunshine and flowers and a warm breeze that makes
you want life to stand still?
