Blushing Orchids

      Before actually entering the gardens, we were stopped by a muscular, mustached man, appareled in a starchy white police uniform.

"Billetes", he muttered succinctly, looking from face to face expectantly. It took a moment for the word to fully register, before I hastily produced the tickets and handed them to him. He squinted critically at my offering for a couple of seconds before allowing us to pass through the momentous threshold from the bustling city streets, bursting with movement, and energy, and lights, and action to the quiet, stagnant beauty of nature.  

        Before us was a long, winding, chocolate-colored pathway that was surrounded by hundreds of tropical plants and trees. As I admired a long stretch of vegetation to the right, I found that I could distinctly note every possible shade of green within a single region, ranging from apple green to asparagus to a sober olive.

          On a brief side note, it was sweltering outside. As I walked through the sea of emerald, I sighed as I felt the heavy air on my skin. It seemed to be laden with water. In the tremendous sunlight, it almost as if the pavement became more of blinding white than a dull, stony, grey, as it roasted in direct sunlight.

     Seeking to escape the extreme heat and muggy conditions, we sought refuge under cool shadows of various trees. As we walked on, we stopped by a thick, smooth, dark, and rounded statue that had a woman's down turned face carved into it. I smiled as I noticed that from the woman’s parted lips came a clear stream of fresh water straight into a bronze basin also attached to the exterior of the fountain. It must have been mineral water, for we all drank a long drought from the shining basin, before walking onward, feeling extremely refreshed.

        At every intersection of the vast grounds loomed strong, but elegant fountains, each composed of statues of graceful figures, spouting jets of white, frothy water several feet into the air.

    It may take a lifetime to fully describe in detail the sundry of flora and fauna we witnessed that day. So do forgive me if I simply state them in and broken bits and pieces. Countless, bright, attention-seeking hibiscuses, much like fireworks,  flaunted their colorful displays at star struck witnesses. Thick, yellow-green Victoria Leaves, like grandiose dinner plates, floated placidly on the surfaces of ponds. Twisted bougainvillea proudly dashed specks of bright pinks, and reds, and purples, onto a wide canvas of green. Orchids violently blushed in the nooks of gnarled branches of trees. Thick, hard, and lemon yellow strands of bamboo towered formidably from the ground. When I rapped curiously on the smooth surface of one, I found that it made a deep, resounding clunk. Nariums, begonias, and industrious palms powerfully climbed from the ground, as they all simultaneously aspired to make their mark on the diverse and constantly changing landscape. As I took a moment to think, it was incredible how similar the resilient and thriving plant life of Jardim Botanico was to the rapid and ever-changing city-life of Rio de Janiero, and yet so different at the same time.