My mom called me flower girl when I was little because I told her that when I grew up, I wanted to be "a flower lady." I was enraptured by all floral shops, and told everyone that the family garden was my garden. The Royal Botanical Gardens are simply gorgeous, and walking around breathing the fresh air, and enjoying the sight of many Spanish families out for the evening took me back to the time when I had to be only 3 or 4 and I pretended that my dreams could bring flowers into being. I met a woman who had that job that I still see as a sort of fantasy, but for her was her living. Josefa worked in the Real Jardin Botanica for many years until the economic crisis forced those in charge to let go many of the gardeners. Now her and her husband make their living selling pressed flowers at the El Raestro on Sundays, their beautiful works that are so obviously made with care and passion are being sold for a pittance. It was sobering to see, but I am glad I spoke with her. I could not leave without purchasing a frame of daffodils, my favorite flowers and wishing Josefa luck.
My favorite moment this week was watching the sun set across from the royal palace.
Another lovely image and a touching story — people here have endured a great deal in the last few years. Thanks for this one that adds a sobering perspective...
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