Orchids and Self-Sufficiency

 I'm going to tell you about a trip I took while I was in London this past year. You might think that a trip to the National Gallery to see Da Vinci's works would be the most profound, or perhaps a stroll through Westminster Abbey where so many men and women of faith have sent their prayers into the heavens; but no. One of my most defining days was spent wandering the traces of Kew Gardens. It was a cold, grey February afternoon. Not exactly garden weather. I was determined, however, to see the orchid exhibition that they were holding in one of their greenhouses. For those of you that don't know, Kew is the Royal Botanical Garden which is located on the Western edge of London, almost out of the city. A few hundred acres of green settled on the outskirts of a major world metropolis. The gardens hold everything from greenhouses brimming with exotic plants to acres of wild woodland reserve. I started out with the orchids, and they were stunning. I've always had a soft spot for quirky flowers, but these were out of this world. A whole sprawling greenhouse full of decadent, crisp little bursts of nature. It was breathtaking; thousands of alien blooms in the most tantalizing colors, twining their way up columns, serenely floating in pools surrounded by primordial koi fish, reaching out from archways that held them suspended in the muggy air. If there is such a thing as Wonderland, I found it that day on my own at Kew. I finally wandered back out into the cold and started to walk. I had no idea really where I was going, but I've found that's the best way to experience anything. At first I followed paved paths, making my way past the daffodils that were just beginning to sprout above the ever-green english grass. Then the trees began to get taller, the paths less defined, until I was out in solitary lawns of wild grass. I kept walking. I found a stream with a bridge that had no real railing. I made friends with a tiny British robin in the tall grasses near a pagoda. I also made friends with a duck. And when I say I made friends, I mean that I had a chat with them. There was no one around to look at me like I was insane, so why not? Birds need friends too. I kept wandering and I made my way deep into the forest reserve part of the garden that no one else was crazy enough to trek out to in the cold. I found where all of the peacocks hide from tourists. And yes, they do just have wild peacocks that wander around Kew. It's not as if they're going to fly off into Central London. I made friends with them, too. I was just so alone. Or at least, it seemed like I was. I know that I was still surrounded by people, relatively speaking. But it was so quiet and so still. Sometimes, when you're lonely, finding absolute quiet is the only thing that will make you realize that you've got yourself for company. That's what I needed. I needed to be reminded that I was enough. Just me and the flowers. And the birds, of course.