park pixies

Someone took the time and trouble to arrange all of these camellia blossoms at the base of this (non-camellia) tree in the park I walk in almost every day. Little things like this charm me for reasons I'm not entirely sure of. Maybe I'm charmed because someone took the time to make something beautiful even though there is no promise that anyone would even notice. (is it just me, or does it seem like nobody does anything anymore unless they can 'get something' for it?) Maybe I like it because it is just fun and beautiful for its own sake, as corny as that sounds.

The flowers in the picture are from Tuesday, but at the same park on Monday I met a potential public-spaces flower-arranger named Cecile. She's probably four. I noticed her stomping around with puddle-splashing glee on the path up ahead of me, but she would have been hard to miss even if she had been walking demurely. She was wearing bright yellow rain boots, turquoise leggings, and fuchsia coat with purple flower buttons. Clearly, a kindred spirit! (her ensemble was bold enough that one either responds with HOORAY or HORROR. I was full of HOORAY for it.) So, Ms. Yellow Boots was walking up ahead of me with her mom (I assume) and their dog (definitely a dog). As I caught up, I had time to observe her pattern: stomp, stomp, stomp (puddles on the left); looking for fallen spring blossoms on the path (center); and then running these poor orphans back to the base of the trees on the right.

On one of her returns to the puddle side of the path, I caught up with Cecile who instantly struck up a conversation with me (chatty four year olds and crazy people love to talk to me for some reason). Since it was pretty clear she wasn't going to be satisfied with a smile and a wave, I said hello and took one of my earbuds out so I could hear what she was saying. She launched immediately into a story about how she had just gotten a spanish language CD (singing, not talking -- I asked), and that her friend Phoebe's grandmother spoke spanish and they were going to sing spanish songs in school. There wasn't really much opportunity for me to quiz her about her flower placement (or anything) because she was talking non-stop until we caught up to her mom, who gently told her to say goodbye because I had to "continue my walk." (no doubt code for "DO NOT TALK TO STRANGERS YOUNG LADY") Cecile and I said our goodbyes and that was that. I doubt she was the one who arranged all of those camellias at the base of the tree (I can't imagine the dog waiting around that long, for one), but I like to think that one day she might be.