Joseph would reach out to me occasionally, the same way the desert blooms a flower every now and then. You get so used to the subtleties of beige and brown, and then a sunshine-yellow poppy bursts from the arm of a prickly pear. How I loved those flower moments, like when he pointed out the moon and Jupiter, but they were rare, and never to be expected.
The narrator reflects on their sporadic connection with Joseph, likening it to the infrequent blooming of flowers in a desert landscape. Just as the desert may seem dull with its shades of beige and brown, Joseph's occasional gestures of warmth stand out like a bright poppy flower amidst the dry terrain. These moments bring joy and appreciation, celebrating the beauty in their rarity.
The comparison extends to shared experiences, such as...