Dear Flora of L.A.,
I wasn’t prepared for you when I made the move out west last fall. I was prepared for the traffic and the pollution, which people warned me about and both live up to their horrific reputations. But you, dear plant life of the City of Angels, your beauty, alien shapes and exotic smells never cease to amaze me.
The first photo I took in L.A. was of your regal Fox Tail Agave towering over the sidewalk in my neighborhood. Walking among your wild Agave Americana, I felt like I was wondering through the desert of a faraway planet.
The vibrancy of your bougainvillea I had encountered, but not your birds of paradise proudly growing like weeds everywhere I turn. The sight and scent of a citrus tree makes my heart swell, but nothing makes me happier than the smell of a invisible plant or flower wafting through my kitchen screen or through the air during an evening stroll.
Your natural aromas are without a doubt my favorite thing about you so far and I hope to never tire of them.
Your ardent admirer,