Fuchsia Man

Driving A to soccer practice, just before leaving our neighborhood, I passed a forlorn-looking man carrying a fuchsia down the hill. The plant looked forlorn too—it’s been averaging 100 degrees during the past few days…we’re all looking a little forlorn.

I watched the man, the fuchsia swinging gently in its wire, hanging basket, and wondered aloud if he was leaving home, fuchsia in hand. A. laughed, commenting that maybe he’d had a fight with his wife and she'd kicked him out.

“Surely you’d take more than a fuchsia,” I replied, “like maybe a ficus to provide shade on your journey?”

We continued down the hill, my thoughts still on the fuchsia-man. Why would anyone be carrying a heavy, hanging basket in this heat? The plant wasn’t perky enough to be a gift—it was definitely sad and droopy.

“Maybe he’s carrying it to a neighbor’s house so someone can take care of it while he’s on vacation?” (I thought this was a pretty good guess.)

“And his neighbor can’t walk?” A. replied with appropriate teenage scorn regarding older, less active individuals.

“They would have to go uphill to get to his house,” I pointed out.

“Haven’t they heard of cars?” Scorn and teen logic in one sentence…

We continued on our soccer-oriented journey, and I started to laugh…sometimes funky, bizarre moments in time are the best :)