In the Wintergardens, on that inhospitable day when I took refuge in the warmed pavillion, this is what I saw: waterlily leaves that seemed to be made out of bronzed silk. A golden highlight shone on them from above, bringing out their luminosity, and a single flower rose out of the dark water.
It’s called a royal water lily, and I can see why, because this one is luxurious. I sat beside it, and marvelled, feeling my soul unfold and come to rest in the serenity of pure being. Such gratitude for the beauty and peace that has been created here, flowering out of the city’s chaos on a wet, windy Friday.