coming home with an elephant
Though the sun had started setting earlier than I was used to, especially for summertime, I didn’t at all mind. Walking the streets at night had a way of charming my heart open wide. Lit storefronts with displays of odd dishes and other treasures, flower shop counters with foliage tumbling out of their doorways, cafes reassuring you that – no matter what time of day – you could always stop in for a cup of coffee.
Away from the neon displays and mall campuses of the neo-city, seeing these small shops lighting up a path along the dimmed, tree-lined road made me feel comfortable and welcome in a way I couldn’t really have named before.
On my way back from campus, I walked out from the subway car and noticed a figure swiftly weaving between the herd of people exiting the platform. He wore a loose-fitted purple overshirt with a pair of cool toned trousers and rubber-soled sneakers. As he hurried out of the station, the top sections of hair on his head bounced up and down with his quick strides. Soon enough, he disappeared from view, taking the stairs up two at time.
Upon exiting the station, I retraced my steps from earlier, crossing the same intersection and passing by the bike stand and now closed café. When I came to the florist shop, lights now dazzled from within, refracted by a crystal chandelier glowing into the settling dusk outside. Bookshelves of leafy plants and store rooms of fresh roses, sunflowers, orchids, and bellflowers painted the walls and window display in a fragrant green.
I walked two steps past it before deciding to stop in and take a look. The scent of fresh flowers encircled me through the automatic doors. A fluffy Persian longhair sat unbothered by the door or shuffling feet around them. Amidst the thrum of the city, the cool AC and the verdancy of the small shop felt nothing short of an oasis from the dizzying heat.
To my surprise, in front of a row of lilies, bent slightly to get a better view of the colors on display, was the same lilac-colored shirt I had seen bounding up the station steps only minutes ago. Though now, the young man looked much more composed and entirely immersed in the task at hand.
Next to him stood a young woman wearing a white camisole and a long flowing skirt. She had large round glasses that gave her a sense of liveliness and complemented her short brownish hair tied back. She stood a little taller than he, two or three inches it seemed, their heads bent together to discuss some kind of arrangement from the spread of flora in front of them.
I had no idea the nature of their meeting, but it pleased me to think that the reason this young man had rushed out of the station was to meet this woman right here. It delighted me even more to ponder what she might think if she had seen his eager pace herself.
Charmed by this encounter of coincidence, I began to browse around myself. At first, I thought of buying cut flowers, but then decided I’d want something that lasted longer than that. I glanced at their handsomely grown orchids but felt something close to intimidation as I observed their delicate branches. Wandering over to the foliage plants, my eyes were drawn to the dark red florets of an elephant flower, named for its wide, concave shape that resembles the ears of the great animal.
This particular plant was still only a small one, only two mature flowers and one green bud beginning to grow. The deep green leaves spread out evenly, as though greeting you affably. I was taken by its ordinariness, in all honesty. I checked the price on the ceramic vase and, finding it quite reasonable, picked it up to bring to the shopkeeper.
