#3) Check Out Krohn Conservatory

Walking through Eden Park today I realized that it was the first time I’d been there wearing something other than running clothes.  This is why I’ve gone by Krohn Conservatory upwards of a thousand times and never set foot in the door.  Last year, on the Walnut Hills leg of Run 52, I vowed to return on a day when I was more appropriately dressed and smelled fresher.

It took five months, but today was the day.  

Susan has been to Krohn Conservatory a hundred times so I enlisted her as my tour guide.  We were joined by Maggie, Ari, Abigail, and Elsie.  Somehow we ended up visiting the weekend before the beginning of the annual Butterfly Show, which sounds like a sad misfortune, but ended up being really pleasant because we had the entire place nearly to ourselves. 

Well, it was us and this kid in a blue shirt.  He was there, too.  And his parents.  And his grandparents.  And some other people. 

Okay, we didn't have the place to ourselves.  Maybe it just felt that way because I tend to be self-absorbed. 

Although the Show Room and the Bonsai Room were closed so that the botanists could prep for the Butterfly Show, we were able to spend a relaxing hour exploring the Palm House, the Tropical House, the Orchid Room, and the Desert Garden. 

The Palm House has a meandering goldfish stream that ends in a pretty waterfall.  I don’t think you’re supposed to sit on the rocks, but you know I’ve never been one to pass up the opportunity to pose for a picture:

 

In the Tropical House, we saw tall ferns and pairs of birds in cages:

 

This is also where I had a crazy realization that although I make a big deal about trying to avoid processed foods, I’ve never seen how two of the things I consume most often look when they are growing:

Coffee Tree

 

Cacao Tree

Now if only there had been a Diet Coke tree I would have been all set. 

The Desert Garden—full of cacti and succulents—was probably my favorite room.  While the Tropical House made me feel really bad about the grocery store hibiscus that died a slow death on my patio last year, I felt really comfortable around all the succulents. 

What was not so comfortable was the cactus that reached up and latched onto the pinky finger side of my right hand. 

 

Luckily, I was able to detach it without much blood. 

In case it's ever needed for my medical record, here is a shot of the offending plant:

Now that I’ve been to Krohn Conservatory once, I would love to come back again and walk around the plants in a cocktail dress and high heels while enjoying a few glasses of white wine and some chocolate stations. 

I have no idea where this vision came from.

Until then, I’m content with the memory of a beautiful spring afternoon spent with five beautiful ladies. 

Namaste!