Stories told by flowers: New York

I was thinking about how to choose what to write about. Everyone has oodles of stories, lots of things happen in a person's life. My sister had coffee with Jim Morrison after a Doors concert in Phoenix, one of my friends moved to Dublin just because she loves Ireland (and Guinness) so much, another friend was living in Japan teaching hip hop, and my brother drives all over the southwest finding new butterfly species -- see what I mean? Really interesting stories.

I have so many photographs of flowers, must be because I love flowers -- in my garden, in the forest, in parks, in my neighbors' yard, doesn't matter, I just love flowers. So I've taken lots of pictures. There are stories here.


These were taken early, early in the morning at the New York City flower market. Many years ago, the fresh flower market stretched for blocks and blocks, now it's down to just the one block. Nevertheless, it's incredible when the delivery trucks are being unloaded: Thousands and thousands of flowers, all colors, all shapes and sizes.


I watched the other early risers making purchases -- flower shop owners, florists for the big hotels, and regular folks like me. I couldn't get enough of the smells; and they were so wonderful mixing together with the coffee shops on the block. Sensory delights, mmmmm.


Kim and I go to New York once in a while to visit Allison and Carl. We've been there in the summer and in the winter. Someday I'd like to see New York in the springtime. Allison says it's really pretty then and in the fall too.