reminders of home
For the first time in a couple of weeks, my weekend was relatively free -- and so on Sunday, I decided to go to the grocery store to do a bit shopping.
As soon as I walked in, I ran into bouquets of tropical flowers, including birds of paradise. I have this thing for bird of paradise flowers -- not necessarily because I think they're pretty (though I do), but I think of them as quintessentially Trinidadian.
When I was a teenager, I lived with my grandparents during the week to go to school; every Friday I would take a hired car back to the village where my parents and sister lived in the southeast corner of the island. On this trip, there was about a 25-mile stretch of road through a coconut grove, along the coast -- and invariably, growing on the side of the road like weeds, were birds of paradise.
As such, birds of paradise always remind me of home. So, I couldn't help it: even though this weekend I hadn't gone to the store for flowers, I bought a bunch.
I love how in the right light, these look like they're lit from within. It seems fitting since they evoke such vivid memories for me, both of Trinidad and of my grandparents.