A wintry wet day at Seattle's Volunteer Park Conservatory, as told in two parts.
Part One: The Bromeliads, Tillandsia, and Ferns
Rain patters on the roof and trickles down the windows
Wind blows the trees in gusts.
But inside all is serene and quiet,
Steamy and green.
Save the quiet drip, drip of tiny hidden waterfalls
And the unmistakable almost-silent sound of things growing
Like characters in a fairy tale
Familiar houseplants grow to mythical proportions
They blossom in fantastical, extravagant proportion
In colors too rich to be real
But they are real
And you can walk among them
To your heart's content
For four dollars on any given afternoon.
* * * * *
Part Two: Cacti
Prickly
Parched
Tucked among the rocks
Foreigners from the desert.
You've traveled far to come here.
Sturdy.
Survivors.
Reaching for the sky.
The world out there isn't meant for you.
Stay inside where it's warm and dry
Charm us with your cacti ways.
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