My husband went down to the flower district bright and early this morning to choose blooms for his altar arrangements for Pentecost service tomorrow. He's very thoughtful about his arrangements, choosing birds of paradise to represent the Pentecostal tongues of flame, for example, and setting them off with red ginger lilies, which connote fiery passion and limitless prosperity in the etymology of flowers. I love these slow Saturday mornings when my man is patiently arranging his blooms and stems in our kitchen. After he's done, they sit majestically on our counter till late afternoon, when he transports them to the church, waters them anew, and sets them on the altar. I married a church man. Sanctuary arrangements are his art.