Remember that sea of flowers, suffocating in plastic, piled at the gates of Buckingham palace in honor of Princess Diana, following her death?
The memory still makes me shudder- it was a creepy sight to me!
Piles and piles and piles . . .
Something has been lost- forgotten.
The joy of flowers is their fragrance, their delicacy, their frailty, their brevity. A very fitting tribute for a beloved priness. But we wrap them in plastic. Why? To protect, prolong, defend them. Never the less, they are still delicate, frail and brief, we can just no longer enjoy them. And they still die.
Of course, I am of the Abraham Lincoln persuasion, that feet also need to breathe!
No plastic on my flowers.