Flowers for everyone

There was a routine to my days for a while. Well, to my nights and days...

I liked to ride my bicycle at night - late at night - about 2 or 3 am. The world is still then and the feeling of being the only person in the world is strong. At that time it was a good feeling.

All night long I would ride around my favorite places, stopping here and there to see what there was. Right before dawn, I would start to head back up the hill to the park for breakfast. The Catholic Worker organization would bring oatmeal or grits to the park every day - 7/365. They brought coffee, milk, brown sugar, hard boiled eggs, and day old pastries. That breakfast could last you all day.

There was a little flower stand about 2 blocks from the park, and they set their trash out each night on the sidewalk in two cans with a stack of boxes next to them. They threw away all flowers and greens that were starting to fade.

I would stand there with a box from the pile and go through each can, taking out any flower that still had any life left to it, all the greens and baby's breath too. I lay each find into my box until the box was full.

I would wheel my bike with the box balanced on the handlebars up to the park and find my spot for the day. In the mornings I liked to sit out in the grassy area in a sunny spot. By the time I got my bicycle unloaded, my blanket spread out and the box of flowers set down, breakfast would arrive.

Whether I was hungry or not, I always got two large cups of oatmeal or grits and a huge cup of coffee. Lots of milk, butter and sugar for the cereal and milk and sugar for the coffee. I always accepted the egg, but usually gave it away - hard boiled eggs give me gas.

Then I would sit on my blanket in the early morning sunshine and arrange my flowers. Some days I sorted them by color, other days by type. Sometime I just gathered them all together into a huge bundle and tied the whole thing to my handle bars.

Then there were the fun days. I loved to make small bouquets with a fern and some baby's breath and 3 or 4 flowers, tied with ribbon. I could sit there for a couple of hours making them. Then I would head up to the avenue to give them away.

I would put a bouquet under people's windshield washer blade when their car was parked at the market and then sat across the street to see what they did when they found it. Very rarely did anyone just throw it down.

I would hand them to people walking by - usually they took them. Sometimes the guys were startled - but the girls smiled at me. That was the fun part - seeing how a couple of flowers could make almost anyone smile.

A number of my street friends would take a bouquet from me and sit it on top of their carts or backpacks. And the street vendors always were happy to get a little something as I went by.

There were times when I did this 2 or 3 times a week and then other times when I went for months without visiting the flower stand. I remember being content for hours at at time, picking flowers out of the trash, sorting and bundling them up and then distributing them into the world.