There must be limits to the variety of flowers, but in human terms, I suspect that limit might be infinitely large and infinitely far away. There are so many flowers and so few days to absorb or experience them. We walk in a garden of infinite delight, but a garden mixed with horror, disease and ugliness. Perhaps we should see all those things as part of the fullness of life, as part of the pleroma surrounding us, and not just the flowers that go on and on. But, how to do that? How to reach out and pull back the infinite?