Friday Flowers

For the past four months, I have enjoyed watching from my balcony as the seasons change from summer to autumn to, now approaching, winter. But one aspect of my view has remained consistent.

Every Friday afternoon since I have lived in my Lindenthal apartment, if I happen to be watching, I see a distinguished-looking man walking down the street with his briefcase in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other; usually a dozen roses. Every Friday he brings his love a gift of beautiful fresh flowers. Cold or hot, rainy or sunny—whatever the weather—he never falters in showing her how much he loves her. I imagine it's ingrained in his heart to do so. I think he's found his "sun," and she hers.