Yesterday while I was waiting to pick up some take out from the Waikiki Uncle Bo’s, I began to walk around the block. Nothing at first was extraordinary: a street person curled up next to a bordered up building, a few sprinkles from scudding clouds, people munching on sandwiches or smoking whatever as they sat in their parked cars.
When I turned the corner, I saw another unremarkable feature in the city, a long chain-link fence filled with scraggly bushes that allowed only one person at a time to get by. But adorning those commonplace bushes was something exceptional: A kaleidoscope of blooming flowers (red, purple, off-white, orange, and yellow), and inside each bloom was a tiny pair of delicate white buds. I stopped to marvel at this efflorescence situated in a grubby area of town. My soul surged.
Although I wished that I had time to commune longer, I could stay for only a moment because other people were coming towards me and behind me on the narrow sidewalk. When I resumed my walk, I quickened my pace, anticipating that I would again acquaint myself with the beckoning blooms. And I did so until the restaurant called me to retrieve my meal, two orders of luscious calamari.
Feasting on crisp Uncle Bo’s calamari has always given me great pleasure. But by the time that I walked home, I was disappointed: the food was soggy and unappetizing. But the trip was worth it, for I had a chance to refresh myself with one of the many floral delights in Waikiki.