I was riding a crowded bus down Van Ness Avenue in San Francisco. I was tired, it was late, there were too many people too close to me, and I just wanted to be home. Suddenly, something down the bus a ways caught my eye. Irises, the bluest irises you could imagine, a huge bouquet of them. I peered around the mass of bodies, leaning one way and then another to counter the rider’s waving movement. A man was holding the bouquet. Not just any man, but I didn’t notice him at first. My eyes took a long moment to feast upon the splendor of those flowers. There were at least fifty flowers, tightly bundled and wrapped in old butcher paper. They were so bright and their color so bold, they seemed almost neon against the dingy crowd! The man held them delicately with one arm, cradling them like a child. Eventually I took him in. He was a young man, in his early twenties, tall and lean, with a serious expression. He had short hair and a short scruffy beard. The color? Red. He had the complexion of a redhead to match, pale and lightly freckled.
I laughed out loud. This sight was too incredible to be true! In his other hand he held a shopping bag from a local art store. I laughed with joy. I looked around at the sea of faces, searching for someone who also recognized him, someone to share this vision with. All I found were blank stares. Their loss! I disembarked and skipped home, how magical the world is!

Tags: Irises, muni, san francisco, Vincent Van Gogh

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