You go explore the Kew Gardens one weekend with a friend.

It’s refreshing to get away from the city, the pavement, the smoke.

All around you is green. Trees, flowers, sky.

Total peace and quiet. 

It’s a beautiful day. Not too hot and not too cold. 

Strolling among the grassy fields you nibble at a fresh pastry you bought from a local market. 

You can’t believe it took you this long to come out here. Had you known how beautiful it was, you’d have come here at least a few more times during your stay.

You find an old cottage. A plaque outside tells you of the original owner’s sweet romance. 

Farther into the gardens you find a pagoda, out of place in England, but somehow fitting in this royal retreat. 

A peacock crosses your path like a vision. All the colors in its feathers glistening in the sunlight.

You enter a giant greenhouse and are suddenly transported home. The humidity forces you to shed layers as you walk amongst the palm trees and artificial springs. It’s a jungle, but you feel like your back in Florida.

The next room is misty. Orchids line the glass walls, dripping with sweet dew. They make you think of your father, carefully tending his own collection.

Next door you find yourself in a desert. Hot, dry, and so different than what you just came from. Cacti soar up towards the glass ceiling. Was that a tumble weed?

You favorite room is at the center of the greenhouse. Grass carpets the square space, a small weeping willow in the corner. In the middle, a pond covered with lily pads make you feel like you’re in a Monet. 

You’ve seen this painting a million times at the National Gallery, but it’s different being here.

It’s magical.

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