Upon Wandering through the Krohn Conservatory one Early Afternoon in October

I wanted to exist in a vacuum. I wanted to be placed inside a glass tube with all but myself sucked out. I wanted a lid sealed on so nothing could get in. Then, maybe, I could straighten up the messes in my brain and soul. But man cannot exist in a vacuum, and neither can Melissa, who is, in fact, a woman. So I went to the Krohn Conservatory. I took Vanity Fair and sat on the only dry bench in the rainforest. I read for a bit and then was disgusted to hear a voice over the intercom (An intercom in a rainforest, oh, horror.) saying "Marcel, Gretchen on line one, Marcel, Gretchen on one." And then I laughed, because Marcel and Gretchen are funny names.

When the bench became uncomfortable I decided to take a walk-through. Nothing eventful happened in the desert. In the next room, I paused by a spray of white and lavender orchids, and God gave me the promise from the Sermon on the Mount. As God takes care of those orchids how much more will he take care of me. My brain's mess was straightened up as I looked into a purpley orchid and listened to my Father.

Next came the Bonsai room (Are there rooms in a conservatory? Would they be called exhibits or maybe habitats instead?). I can't help but see Bonsai trees as too controlled. Stunted. It seems like the very nature of a plant is free and wild, and to snip and shape them so much is cruel. But as I wandered through the Bonsai habitation, I began to believe it cruel to leave something in its natural state. The bonsai plants are gorgeous. Would they have been lovely if left alone? The cultivator isn't cruel, he is blessing them by shaping them into something beautiful. And this time it was the mess in my soul that was straightened out.

I went back to the rainforest exhibit-place-thingy to read again, but it had become busy so I watched the people. I saw two little boys who were interested only in the goldfish. They bent their blond heads over the pond until they were bored and ran out again. I saw a tour guide walk through saying, "This is Chenille, which is french for 'fuzzy caterpillar', and that is an Oakley Fern wrapped around a Mahogany Tree." I saw a girl in a black hat wander through as I had done. She seemed to be waiting for someone. I saw a boy with short black curly hair and long black curly eyelashes jumping, trying to touch the Spanish moss. I think he was pretending to be an NBA player. And I saw two tiny ants crawling on the white page of my book. And everything was perfect.

Then the ferny damp air was too heavy, so I walked outside to the darling caresses of my own Ohio autumn. And I was glad not to be in a vacuum.