the garden of earthly delights. in today's american society, plants traditionally get the short end of the fan appreciation stick. most of the time, our interaction with plants is limited to stepping around a lawn, observing some plants as we zip along the freeway, or perhaps taking note of a weed family sprouting haphazardly from the cracks in our concrete. members of the animal kingdom are easier to admire and appreciate, it's fairly obvious to any observer how cool animals are. plants are usually just that though, plants.

we don't exactly live in a modern day walden, close to our trees and next to our leafy/stemmy/flowery friends. the most celebrated plant in southern california is the palm tree, for its soothing and glamorous association with tropical locales. the palm tree does not suffer from a lack of appreciation, but most other plants don't have this kind of star power or media attention.

anyway, i've always fastidiously avoided most plants. i mean, plants are nice from a distance, but get too close and bugs, slugs and the greatest enemy of all, dirt, will invariably appear on your person. unacceptable. i've always appreciated the beauty of a rare plant (my mom is big into flowers and trees), but i've never had the urge to own one. until now.

i've decided to give my attention and admiration to our desert dwelling plants; the plants that were forced to adapt to the extreme temperatures -- temperatures that would melt mighty oaks and crinkle ginormous redwoods. as of this weekend, i have seven of these tough desert denizens situated on my balcony. maybe i'll name them after the seven dwarves -- since they are all rather small -- but i'm against anthropomorphizing my possessions.

when i lived in england, the thing i learned the most about, aside from learning how to drive stick and to tinker with flutes, was how much the english love their gardens. every respectable english home had a garden. english women really love their gardens and an anniversary present of two tons of manure is not only acceptable, but anticipatingly delightful. the families that i stayed with always had a shelf or two of books dedicated to the proper design and upkeep of gardens. i met many a housewife whose dream was to attend horticulture school.

our original plan was to create a succulent garden, a mini-desert scene complete with rocks and sand. but upon further review, our seven friends are arrayed perfectly in a tiered formation and there's no real need to construct a garden. maybe later.

the buy of the day, a red and yellow epidendrum (part of the orchid family), set us back seventy bucks. seventy dollars for a plant? i can't even bring myself to buy shoes priced over a dollar anymore, but yet i splurged on a fragile plant. mindboggling, i know. but you should see this plant. it's amazing. the flower stays in bloom for ten months a year and the coloration and shape of this particular epidendrum looks exactly like a phoenix rising from the ashes, soaring into the sun. neat hunh?

of course, my newly acquired green thumb only extends to the viewing arena, james is in charge of general upkeep and plant health. i just refill the water pot and keep a sharp eye out for aphids, ants and slugs. down with slugs i say, down with slugs.