Beauty. Inhale. Relax.
One bouquet this morning. One drop off. A navy blue Jetta parked in the shade at Runyan Park. Leopard covered seats and a gate in the back for their dog draws me in as I leave the arrangement on the hood of their car.
Uploading this photo, I’m reminded of the most ephemeral dream I had years ago. I was newly in love and we had just gotten back from a trip up to San Francisco. Exhausted from the drive home and staying up all weekend, I collapsed on my bed. The afternoon sun rocked me to sleep and my dreams said hello.
I saw my eye very clearly but it looked bright and washed out, like an image from a Man Ray film. Then I heard the words “Come play with me.” There’s the difference between someone speaking in your dream vs. a strong internal voice that speaks. The latter is always startling. And as someone who was just startled, I woke up. The summer sun had set, taking with it the warmth from my bed and I lay in shadow, my new love beside me, thinking of those words.
Years later, in a completely different context, my mind draws those words to me again. “Come play with me.” I think that’s part of what I’m doing everytime I leave a bouquet of flowers for some unknowing soul. It’s a siren call for bliss, a rally cry to turn everything we know about the work week up on its head and say to one another “Forget about what we’re told about all this. What’s our highest joy today? Come play with me and let’s find out.”
