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Tuesday, March 26, 2019

The Resort Town :: Descriptive Essay About A Place

The Resort TownWhen the eye has tired of the human scenery of the mend town, and the body is weary of the towns repetitive entertainments, the visitor whitethorn finally notice the fury of alien plants. The misting systems at every resort, designed for cooling rows of prostrate bodies, also provide the right conditions for equatorial jungles. The resort had made the most of this opportunity. I started to feel the more patient offerings of botanic companionship. To greet these plants, though, I needed to know their names. For that, I would need a nursery, and only one was close enough to walk to. From the front, it looked normal enough. I wandered in past the unattended outdoor register and into the usual towers of annual trays -- petunia, impatiens, salvia, and so on -- the same seventeen brief and predictable thrills that shout out from annual-towers everywhere. rotter them, a small display of cactus, un checked but neat. Behind that, the beginnings of a jungle of bangingr con tainers. Along the side of the property, a large unkempt man drove in a golf drag on with a tree in the seat beside him. The proprietor. At once, I precept some of the plants that I had come to identify. I looked for their labels. There were none. Glancing around, I cognise that I hadnt seen a label anywhere. No prices. No identities. No instructions for planting and care. No customers either. I moved alone finished a containerized wilderness, all sights obscured by overgrown but anonymous vines, trees, shrubs. Finally, there, a label A low, greyish shrub cowered in a hexagonal polecat whose nursery tag still clung to its side. Making my own path through the sea of containers, I bent down to read. Strelitzia, it said. My mind flashed a yield of Strelitzia, the bird of paradise, a soaring tropical plant with foot-long leaves and an audacious backward-leaning orange tree and blue flower that has always made me think of Marilyn Monroe reclining ever so slowly onto a great divan. Flashy and tender, Strelitzia was the perfect frigid of the tough and humble desert shrub that actually grew in this container. Well, I thought, at least they transplant things here. Perhaps one pot in a hundred bore any label at all, and each label was not just wrong but perfectly so. A screaming red honeysuckle vine was labeled Opuntia -- prickly pear, the familiar cactus that grows in rounded flat pads.

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