Among the Sacred Cacti

I love Rockefeller Park Greenhouse, the City really does it right. Fertile, fecund, plushly scented, nicely kept and not well known--all ingredients for a great little treasure. Been there 20+ times in my six years around here.

There's a bust of Strauss next to a concrete bench, a Greek statue hidden behind elephant fronds, lemon trees in the tall room right off the lobby , three ponds (one with goldfish) and 2 fountains. But my favorite spot is the cacti room--warm and light infused.

When I was underemployed in the raspy and nasty winter of 2009-10 I would luxuriate there, sit at the redwood picnic table and work at finding my voice and a job to match. I'd marvel at the variety of cactuses--Euphorbia (sign beneath says Madagascar), stereotypical cowboy spikey ones, ground hugging fuzzy-soft looking ones and a bunch more with names I never remember. 

Back the other day for the first visit in a while, I was soaking up the regal presence of these locally grown but desert-spirited wonders. Then a rumble of voices headed my way. 

Bursting into the scene are a dozen senior citizens marveling and jabbering at the cactuses. Excitement rules the room, all of us in the 12 X 15' space loving the surprise of the place, knowing it was cool to be here, rejoicing in the interesting anomaly of cacti in Cleveland.

Take a group picture? Sure, it's the least I can do for you urban trekkers.