As soon as Francesca and I entered we were approached by a red-robed oracle who solemnly shared a bit of the future. (I'll be okay and my wife, the cards said, should not to make any important decisions for the next twelve hours).
As we admired paper lawn sculptures white-clad couples began dancing all around. Being a former dancer, Francesca joined in. (Choreography by the Grove's own Maya Billig)
From the Kampong's roof an opera singer belted out an aria. Several women on the lawn responded with lyrics of their own.
Moving across a lawn strewn with fortune cookies we passed The Bride who wandered endlessly looking for her mate. She didn't find him where palm tree sculptures replicated 65 million year-old fossils we recently discovered on Mars,
or in the tree festooned with chicken eggs,
or by the bay where I later sat on a rustic bench grateful to be spending a perfect day in this magical place.
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Two days earlier we were volunteers at the Margulies Collection, a mega-gallery in Wynwood. We helped collect the entry fees that are donated to Miami's women's shelter, Lotus House (they took in $8000 yesterday!).
Being constantly hungry, I was
happy to see a diner in the distance. Turns out, everything was made of cardboard. Fortunately Zak's Bakery was two blocks away.
Around a corner I discovered the nursing home for super heroes.
I asked if I could take pictures but none of them could hear me,
not even Superman,
or Wonder Woman.
I love surprises. When I tried to use the gallery's elevator, the metal doors slid open to reveal a group people projected onto a screen as if to say "Gotcha!". How clever. I later learned the Margulies has no second floor (or real elevator).
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