Plantae + Polyphony.

Last Sunday I drove to Athens, Georgia for the day to visit a friend, see her amaaazzzzing/colorful/clean/bright/superbly-decorated home, eat a spectacular sandwich at The Grit, and spend some time at the state botanical gardens in the name of Capstone research.

Upon walking through the glass doors into the conservatory, I was struck by two things: a hot wall of humidity, and delightful music.
One thing (amongst a brief list of others including gothic architecture, live orchestras, and the perfect breakfast) that never fails to overwhelm me with its beauty is the sound of strong, pure voices sewn together in a polyphonic harmony, a cappella.  It is a specific thing and when it strikes, it affects me not simply on an emotional level, but physically. I find tears that have involuntarily welled up behind my eyes, and rapidly evaluate my surroundings to determine whether or not the context is suitable for said tears to escape. (Suitable contexts: dimly-lit concert halls, the comfort of my own home, etc. Unsuitable contexts: Botanical garden conservatory, crowded, mid-day...)

A group of approximately forty members comprised of both young children and men and women older than my grandparents sat in a tight group of chairs facing a central conductor who could not have been older than ten years old. I do not know what kind of group they were and I never tried to find out, as I was all too content studying the texture of maidenhair ferns and curvature of the Phlebodium aureum to such an ethereal soundtrack.

We strolled, lingered next to the ferns, met a few other friendly chatty visitors, finally identified a cactus I had been spotting across middle Georgia for a while now, pet the fuzzy tufts of Lambsear sprouting up outside (only when typing that out do I realize how weird that sounds... ugh.whateva.), and took in the goodness of an afternoon laced with sunshiny bliss. All the while I documented various specimens and gathered enough images to work from for the time being.

Day o' fun peppered with subtle productivity = success.