An Herbal Treasure in NYC

It must have been nearly ten years ago when I began to explore the West Village of New York City as a starry eyed teenager. I'll never forget the experiences there that led me to choose to study at New York University for my bachelor's degree. I so loved the energy and the individuality of the people, the shops, the streets, the mosaiced lamp posts around there. I recall an afternoon when a friend and I met a guitar playing man named Lucas who played Led Zeppelin's "The Rain Song" to us in Washington Square Park. I looked around and thought, I want to live here someday. Some of my favorite shops were the tattoo and peircing parlors on St. Marx, the Mud truck always parked at Astor Place, the used record shops and Matt Umanov guitar shop and of course Aphrodisia Herb Shoppe on Bleecker St. I returned to Bleecker this summer after a long trip abroad and was saddened to find that Aphrodisia had closed down. I walked up and down Bleecker, unwilling to fathom that it was no longer there, especially since I have developed a passion and curiosity for herbs in the past few years.
A nice man at the bookshop next door informed me that the store did indeed close, and he gave me a business card, saying perhaps they'd reopen someday. I remember going into the shop, seeing the lovely lady and her gorgeous cat inside. The shop seemed so cozy and full of life, like an old cottage that was well lived in. I would walk around, trying to take in as much of the products I could. I would read the labels on the herbs, totally lost as to their function and use, but nevertheless aware of their quality and powers. I believe the only thing I ever purchased was a bag of loose tea that I might never have drank properly. Instead, I would go inside there to revisit a world that was otherwise lost to us. It was a place of magic and imagination, with its lacey curtains and dainty jars and decanters all around. The smell of the forests, the fields, and the gardens of the world were all bottled up in there. I never took advantage of the owners' wisdom, perhaps because when I entered, when I was living in that place and time, I didn't feel a need for any remedy or fix. I was content to just look around, and wonder. I miss that place, not because I was a regular customer, but because it holds a place in the dear memories of that time of my life. I miss what that place stood for, and still believe in it. Aphrodisia, like Washington Square Park, and the Rain Song, and St. Marks Place, will always remain the same for me.  I wish luck to the owners and hope they will open up again soon.