An Occasional Eden

The morning had opened warm and moist and my stroll around the gardens had left me glistening but now I was seated in the cooling shade of the forest canopy and refreshing the tissues with the contents of an icy cup. 

Despite my poor choice in upholstery for the morning walk--I should have chosen more lightweight cotton and something with shorter sleeves--I nonetheless had achieved a Nirvana-like repose.

Thunderstorms might be troubling the coast elsewhere, but here in Airlie Gardens, just east of Wilmington, I enjoyed a peaceful calm that comes only to those who have done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

The air was redolent with birdsong, and ocean breezes rustled the leaves of camellia and azalea. I was restoring the soul while  Ms. Wonder wandered the garden's interior, camera in hand, producing something she called a pictorial essay, whatever that is.

A young man who'd parked his noisy pickup in a space near the picnic area gave me a look as he passed by on his way, unless I missed my guess, to join his waiting family. It was one of those looks that if translated into the common tongue would have included phrases like 'silly old coot.'

I recognized it as a look of envy, although, what actually sparked the green-eyed monster in this young geezer, I cannot say. But I didn't blame him for it. On a morning this warm and humid, a table in the shade with cooling sea breezes and icy refreshments is highly desired, if not downright coveted.

After all, who could be offended or cast blame on others when surrounded by the garden paradise known as Airlie Gardens, especially in the middle of the celebration known as the North Carolina Azalea Festival? The answer, of course, is no one.

And we will do well to remember that we don't know everything. Best to assume that anyone entering the grounds of one of the few Edens left on earth, is committed to spreading goodness and light. Otherwise, such a person is risking being expelled the way our ancestors were expelled from the original Eden.