Of man and nature…

Today, or rather yesterday if exactness is enforced, my mother and I spent the day exploring Cincinnati, Ohio. This journey was not planned, but instead, was completely spontaneous. When the sun rose to usher in Thursday morning, we did not even have a minuscule notion of what we would like to do. Therefore, we did something that we have always admired; we chose to learn.

We visited the Cincinnati Art Museum. The art museum seems bizarre once you have crossed over its threshold. Those of you that have encountered this building will probably remember how bamboozling it truly is. You may remember how the galleries all seem to form a mighty labyrinth. A labyrinth, mind you, that is captivating.

The museum and its baffling labyrinth inspire me to glance around corners, looking for a minotaur. I assume that he would probably be planted firmly upon a bench that rests in the surrealist gallery. He may have a newspaper. That would only seem likely considering the fact that the minotaur has probably memorized all of the paintings, sculptures, and other works by heart.

After the museum, my mother and I stopped by the Krohn Conservatory. This was perhaps not the wisest of decisions considering the general tri-state area has been under a heat advisory warning for days. However, beauty and life are two things that are valuable enough to the point where pain and suffering can be endured.

While it was excruciatingly hot—a vibrant, pulsing furnace—inside the conservatory, the plants were brilliant. I even saw a clutch of bananas hanging from one of the banana plants. Today was the first day that I have ever seen bananas hanging as they do in the wild. For a moment, I contemplated how glorious it would be to scale that plant, pluck that fruit, fire up a grill, and toast myself (and my mother) a fried banana dessert.

A few shops later, my mother was delivering me back to my boyfriend’s apartment. I wish that more individuals in my mother’s life would respect how intelligent, curious, and inspiring she truly is. Today she showed me, once again, that she is an interesting and caring person. One day, when she is no longer with me, I hope that I can still venture into the many inspiring places that she has taken me, content with the knowledge that she is still there pointing out the Sweet Orange tree and marveling at Benjamin West’s Ophelia and Laertes.