Spreading Cactus in the Desert Conservatory
Beauty in the Natural World
by Cindy Morawski
I stepped out of the San Antonio Botanical Gardens last week feeling like I'd won the Texas Lotto! Seeing the Gardens with my DayTripper friends on Thursday made me feel lucky. The weather seemed like spring. Not too hot. Not too cold. There was sunshine and a light breeze. Flowers of every color, shape, and size were blooming. The scent of those blooms wafted softly and subtly past me. I inhaled slowly. My senses could get used to starting every day with these basic elements.
Starting with the Garden for the Blind, we relied on our senses of touch and smell. Pretty sculptures dotted the landscape along with sweet shrubs and aromatic herbs. I especially liked the pungent oregano and basil along the walkway. An elegant arrangement of cranes posed by the herb garden. Their long beaks and legs seemed to point out the best garden features to me. I used my tactile sense of touch to enjoy a nearby armadillo sculpture positioned waist-high in the flowerbed. Its textured armor helped me realize how effectively those scales might work.
Moving on to our next stop, we lingered in the Japanese Garden. A Japanese maple mirrored its crimson color in the reflecting pool below. Soothing sounds of a waterfall accented our stroll along the path. Koi darted in and out of the small pond's plant life, flashing brilliant spots of orange and golden highlights toward our group. A sense of serenity filled me. I inhaled deeply. I remembered my yoga breathing. I'd wished that I could have stayed longer there.
Looking up, I noticed the sunlight's reflections on the conservatories' glass towers. Their futuristic appearance spelled Star Trek to me. Lingering for a photo by the lily pond, my friends and I then headed inside to have a look at the desert conservatory. Warm, dry air greeted us. The arms of the first cactus said hello. A metal scorpion sculpture seemed real atop a large rock in this desert environment. The excited voices of several elementary students from a school field trip aided my memory of ones I had taken with former students when I taught at Medina Valley Middle School. The kids' excitement was contagious. No school for them. No work for me. A garden holiday for everybody!
Next, we stepped into another world. Warm, moist air embraced me as I opened the foggy and wet glass door of the second conservatory. Did I take a wrong turn and land somehow in Hawaii? Colorful orchids stood out in an abundance of greens. An overhang with a waterfall seemed like a Kodak Moment. Everywhere I looked, bits of luxurious pigments winked seductively to me. I wanted to examine each pink, red, and purple. I knelt down to photograph the orchid in the above photograph. The petals looked like they had been carefully handcrafted by a master artist. The surrounding foliage might hide a lizard or monkey. Exotic places in nature possessed the power to stimulate the imagination.
After visiting other gardens and places in the remaining conservatories, we concluded with a tour of tall trunks of palm trees and large fronds of ferns and palm leaves. Heading up the stairway to a second story lookout, we viewed the palms' second story height. Dazzled by the view from above, I then sensed the magic of the natural world. From down below, I again could hear the cacophony of many student voices. It blended into a symphony of beauty for me. I pushed out the door with the sound of that music in my heart, suddenly ready for a new location and adventure.
On the pathway leading to the hilltop viewing area, I spied a stately cactus. Its spiky reach looked like it might spear the nearest puffy cloud. I also noted that the morning's haze had burned off and now the sky was a brilliant blue. What a Big Sky! After being indoors touring all those conservatories, I couldn't help but notice the sunshine and openness of the great outdoors. From the top of the hill, you could see all the way downtown. I spied the Tower of America off South Alamo at Hemisfair Park to my left and the university's tall buildings to my right. The garden's sidewalks snaked along the open grassy areas below. Thirty-eight acres of park spread out in my peripheral vision. More beauty. Just a different kind.
I realized with enthusiasm that one of the best parts was yet to come. The large pond and the homestead. Mallard and wood ducks greeted us at the water's edge. Comfortable benches nearby looked inviting too. An elegant white domestic duck cruised by on the pond's smooth surface with a wide wake behind it. The homestead cabin stood securely rooted on the opposite side of the water. It looked like a movie set. It seemed too good to be true. We took our time hiking around the pond, and then stopped to examine the cabin and the homestead's vegetable garden. A trip back to the 19th Century.
For me, we saved the very best for last. The rose garden. Heavy blooms covered each rose bush. I had never witnessed this many blooms ever in the past. I could hear the soundtrack's song -- "Everything's coming up roses . . ." I spied the Carriage House Bistro's white tent on the patio past the rose garden. I had worked up an appetite. The aroma of tasty food blended with the roses' scent. My friends and I headed out of the garden for lunch on the patio. A perfect ending to a wonderful day.
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