The first time I visited Homestead Gardens I was very very stoned.
This made me fearful of ever revisiting the garden center in Davidsonville, Maryland because I was certain that what I'd been seeing was an illusion, like wandering onto Mothra's Technicolor set or, to un-date myself, the 3-D deliciousness of Pandora.
Note: I was, of course, stoned against my will. There I was, just trying to sell Brucie a newspaper ad, and he foisted brilliant weed upon me. So please, what was I to do? The family needs to eat.
So there we were, zonked and fuzz-brained on a gorgeous late spring afternoon and he says, "Let's go for a drive. I want to show you this place..."
Clearly, nothing of substance was going to happen during the rest of the day, and this was kind of work, wasn't it? So I said, suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure. And we swiffered ourselves into the car and somehow managed to get to Davidsonville without killing ourselves or anyone else.
And Whoa Nelly, the heady assault of the tropicals hits first, the freshness of orange and tangerine and lime mingling with an old-lady honey whiff of gardenia. Near overwhelming sweetness tamed by jasmine's earthy rot. Inter-cut the scents with florescent colored....
--------------------------Fragment's end. Florescent colored WHAT? I wonder where I was headed with this potentially interesting posting....
Upon a more sober visit, I can say that Homestead Gardens was pretty much as wonderful as it appeared in my initial cockeyed condition. Some years later, however, it's less inspired. Still worth a visit, which I do with some frequency, but missing the extravagant fabulousness the place once possessed. I wonder what has changed?