When I was eighteen, I moved to a monastery in the mountains of Southern California. Despite being a Hindu monastery they still celebrated Easter. Hinduism has so many gods, one more wasn't an issue.
Anyway, that first Easter weekend, in 1997, I was on greenhouse duty. Not a super hard job. If there was cloud cover, I had to close the flaps on five greenhouses and shut off the fan. When the sun was out, I had to open the sides of the greenhouses and turn on the fans (so that the $30,000 worth of hibiscus and begonias we grew commercially didn't fry).
We were 1400 feet up and on that particular Easter morning, the ground was covered with frost and there were thick clouds above. I didn't bother opening up the greenhouse before attending a crispy outdoor "sunrise" service that made me wonder why I'd left Canada. Afterward, we had a big brunch and then at noon we all met in the barn to watch Ben-Hur.
To make it easy to see the movie, all the windows in the barn were covered. Hence, I had no idea what the weather was like outside. But up to that point, the clouds hadn't moved and most of us were wearing winter hats and coats inside the barn. The greenhouse certainly didn't need its doors open and its fans blasting.
I was safe to enjoy the film.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well, as you may know, Ben-Hur runs for three and a half hours.
Yeah, you probably see where this is going.
When I stepped out of the barn at 3:30 pm, the sky was completely blue. I unzipped my winter jacket and took off my hat. I remember standing there basking in the warm rays of the sun, thinking:
What a beautiful day. What a great film. And what an idiot I am.
Did I mention I was basking in the warm rays of the sun? The same rays which can kill $30,000 worth of flowers in the greenhouses in under 30 minutes.
Next post, I'll tell you what was waiting for me after I ran at top speed to the greenhouses.
John C. A. Manley
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