Since the age of their long-gone empire, they have hybridized and engaged flora species, taking mother nature to the salon, and given her a makeover. The Dahlia didn't look like it does after the Dutch took her from Mexico, but now, some 400 hundred years later, she hardily blooms still in November in New York. This is what amazed me at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden today.
The Japanese hill and pond garden is a most serene and auspicious place, fit for a time spent alone, sorting quandary. Unfortunately, the rain does its job on everyone, and makes us betray our feelings. It makes the future mirror the blackest parts of the past. So, strife seeming nearly amenable, easily turns tragic. Solutions unbalance.
The rains do keep these hederae, colanthus, and cacti alive, though. And things don't just stay bleak and repeat themselves like the rain's melancholy mirror says. The proof is in the Dahlia, tempered to strength and stability by endless care, trial, and error, and fed by rain for thousands of generations over hundreds of years.
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