Chapter 2 “Flower Rain”


A new Garden opened near my house.

I enjoy the flowers and taking care of them, though I am not as good at it as I’d like
I’ve a feeling that there are a lot of us – who are really enthusiastic about flowers and plants, but at times it just doesn’t work out.

Such an amazing opportunity to go and take a look at new breeds of flowers, bushes, trees – plainly just to enjoy the flora itself.

For me – it’s art. Plants differ from one another, yet all seem in so much harmony.

There are great architects specialising in creating landscapes that change each season – using plants, knowledge and imagination.

Usually I’m alone during my walks, to savour the moments, but today I had Orchid accompanying me.

Orchid wanted to take some time to understand my point of view regarding flowers. She is not fond of the whole idea and process. She said it is too time consuming – that you have to care for it. That’s another point of view.

We were pacing through the arch of wisteria. Purple flowers hung above us. Like the garden of the mythical goddess – guiding us with this passage to meet the goddess herself.

Orchid struck a question. Once again – not minding the joy I had, nor time and place.

“Why is it that humans are so much into not liking differences? Why do they have problems with how they look or where they live? Even with their preferences in love? Does it not come as weird to be pointing out the differences and disliking them without understanding them?”

This girl had to bombard me with diverse questions when I was feeling all good and fuzzy.

Not that she looked like it, but she had this odd habit of getting me uncomfortable. Perhaps it was somehow related to her – the questions she asks. Yet she does crash them questions on me, when I’m off guard. Irritating.

We walked across a little stand. I bought a bottle of flower wine and in silence walked to a bench that was conveniently hidden behind the corner of the next passage.

Whiff of the chrysanthemum scent caught me. We sat down. I got out a glass that the seller gave me with a wine bottle. After a little struggle I opened the wine. The deep maroon was poured. Mellow was a fragrance that waffed towards me.

In the corner of my view – Orchid was staring me down. No escape from the ‘needed’ lecture, is there?

“Not really sure how to approach such a topic.” – I took a deep breath, looked at passing by creatures of this world, enjoying wine. Marvellous taste. – “In the human world, when a person is born – it’s born into the world that has toxicity – which is being taught and burned into the brain from the moment he appears.”

I took a deep breath, shook head, and in a moment went on.

“Such happens due to the fact that the ancestors were through experiences, which lead them to believe that differences are bad. People with another colour are pinned with some sort of specific criteria and stereotypes. Then there’s another sort of preferences in love or bounds – all looking atrocious and heretic to the previous generations. Elders teaching you that only your place of birth is one to be prayed for and only one that shall accept you.”

I smirked in bitterness, as I downed a glass and poured more.

“Unfortunate path for the adventurer it might seem. But there are brave souls. Ones, who despite the words they heard and took in – allowed their soul and heart to seek the answers to all pending questions on their own. So they begin their travels.”

“These adventurers take it upon themselves to see with their own eyes and hear with their own ears. For what these ‘others’ are different, or have in common with each other, or reasons why they made their decisions.”

“Throughout the time spent with the rest of the world, they learn to see that different skin colour is nothing to be frightened of. They all remain the same human beings within one race. They share the fact that they have goals in life. They also breathe and hope, believe and work, possess the body and communicate.

They care about their families, whether the family is a good town, country or few close people – it does not matter. They all have needs, they eat, they sleep, they seek pleasure. So why are they still viewed by others as a threat?”

I gave a short look in Orchids direction. She stood watching passers by, yet maintaining the best concentration to my words she could muster in this moment.
Giving a little head shake I continued.

“Ones who are not afraid to express themselves – become a cause of threat for their open soul. For the wish of being with others, or just someone they love and care for. When it was all about conquering the land and showing strength – it seemed appropriate for male to have a male as a lover. It was even quite a strange occurrence if a man did not select another man for a lover.”

“Women were just the same as men. Allowed to love one another, or whomever they choose, and it was all a part of the norm. Then as it took a turn, the changes started to occur. Then men were meant to only stay with women. To be a pair within despair, who on the side, hiding in shadows, were available to gasp the joy of same sex love and intercourse.”

“As, in their later opinion, such a move is viewed as ‘not normal’, something out of stories of the devils and angels. Then religions came to pressure people – to make them look in the direction which satisfied someone above. I can truly call it rubbish.”

“No one, not a single soul besides yours can judge your decisions or choices – judgement from others is the learned “norm” of acceptance and obedience. They were not teaching logical sense and integrity for what they really are.”

“Then time later – people rejoiced for being able to, alas, not hide their love and family, which may consist of same sex couple. It is not bad, or hideous – it never was.”

“But as they started to accept the ways of nature, there appeared those who’re still frightened by such norms of life and nature. They lack the vision and understanding that rules which were made in history were made by Humans.”

“There are no creatures that control us or judge us from aside. There’s only soul – possessed by each and every one of us. Perhaps not scientifically proven to have merits that can be understood. And actions which we take are only to be judged by us. Based on love, logic and common sense nature.”

“So in the sense… When differences are viewed as natural, when strange is being part of life. When others stop to make up rules which nature did not provide, stop trying to conquer the world, stop making up the horrid stories of the encounters that weren’t faced… Which then become the awful lot of new toxic rage of rules against the others. Instead – accept and be open, learn, help, cooperate, empathize – that could lead to norms of nature.”

“I can’t deny the natural selection. Yet there are weaklings that end up being the toughest ones. Not always physical strength overcomes the mental strength.”

“Wise men and women are the ones who keep the sanity in a mad world. Although endlessly told they’re possessed by evil of some sort. I always see that. The highly referred evil – is just hatred and lack of knowledge of one who speaks of it.”

“We, just like them, in our world have hate and love. It’s just that our teachers make us learn that knowledge, work, ideas, free expressions and love – are ones for making progress. Yet there is a whole dark place – which is within some of us. It was proven greatness to know and understand the dark, but chose the light. Or even live, whilst maintaining both.”

“With these components we’re made. That’s what makes us. And the choices we make. Thus each decision is your own. You craft your life and are the one to live it.”

“The things that differ should only let us get closer. Learning and understanding them strange things and making them become a part of what we all are.”

My throat was dry from all this yapping. I downed a whole glass of wine. Amazing potion.
Orchid was bored, yet trying to maintain composure. Guess the philosophy I lecture can be to some – endlessly boring.

I put the glass down, pouring the last of the wine, then swiftly finishing the last of the fine drink. My head tilted back, eyes glued to iris hanging, leaves and petals fluttering in the soft breeze.

Another pang of pain in my head. That suffocating feeling and dire wish to burst in tears. My muddled mind once more starts to whisper “My Light…”, as this odd yearning comes again.

The strange sadness and sentimentality is really frustrating.

After a harsh wind gust – rain poured down. Petals fell with raindrops on all that was underneath. As they fell – they looked magical.

The shower of the blue and purple. Although it felt like a part out of my memory, like I’ve seen something similar before. Yet I knew well that it was my first – observing such a scene.

“We should go home.” – exhaled Orchid. The frown on her face stated her disgust with the weather.

We stood up and walked through this flower rain. My feet walking towards the wine stand – to get more flower wine.

“So, ones who nag the differences are simply afraid or taken over by hate. They fail to understand why such an occurrence takes place. That makes sense.” – Orchids’ voice sounded like robot. The frown deepening on her face.

“It’s not the best of explanations, but that is one I see as true.” – I spoke, paying for wine.

I asked her to go home first, as I’d still wanted to enjoy more wine and flowers. Without any debate, just plain disgust with the weather, she left.

I walked back to the bench I sat on. No passers by. Somehow the garden became deserted.

The petals felt like kisses all over my face. My coat got soaked, the nape of my neck collected petals. Somehow I felt like this rain was giving me its blessing. Like before…


I opened the bottle and drank straight from it. My tears blurred vision, falling down. Rain was adding up to my feelings.
Once again the lump in my throat, the pain in my chest, and the suffocating feeling grew larger.

With no one there to see – I wept.

“My Light… My Light…” – I mumbled under my breath, choking on sadness that washed over me.

I watched the petals fall, as the rain grew heavier. Thunder and storm befell this region.

Drinking this sadness down, I found solace in roaring thunder. It felt familiar, it warmed my heart.

After I finished wine – I walked home.

“That’s not my home. Never was.” – Thoughts protested, as legs stumbled on.