Hidden in the grid of Downtown Los Angeles, the LA Flower District boasts the title of largest flower wholesale district in the country. Comprised of two main flower markets and individual stores, the district contrasts towering concrete structures with the overpowering smell of plants and people.

The Southern California Flower Mart, located on Wall Street, seems passable from the exterior. A large concrete warehouse, the building seems like something fit for storage.

A steel freight door, left open, lets natural light in to illuminate a table where an attendant checks in visitors. The public pays $2 to enter the mart, while industry professionals who are members of the Flower District Association pass through with their badges proudly displayed.

Inside is your grandmother’s version of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory: Signs hang from the ceiling demarking separate booths, with an expanse of white plastic buckets filled with bundles of raw-cut flowers below.

The often overlooked green fillers in bouquets and arrangements scatter the gray warehouse as well; lace-like oversize ferns, crisp cuts of Christmas firs and dripping tendrils of sour moss are there for customers to select as they scheme grand-scale productions or dinner party centerpieces.

It’s hard to believe that the mart had once seen better days. At 9 a.m. on a Friday morning, groups of people are running around with carts stocked with hydrangeas and sunflowers in preparation for weddings, funerals and even movies.

It’s easy to get lost in this fragrant labyrinth of mums and gerberas — there’s even a disconcerting upstairs area filled with holiday decorations and seemingly random supplies that include silk flowers, plastic spaghetti, oversized Styrofoam Easter bunnies and chicken figurines made of dolomite.

To keep clients awake and alive, there’s complimentary coffee stations scattered throughout the property. A typical day at work here starts at midnight.

For florists and other trade members, the flower mart opens at 2 a.m. for half of the week so buyers can get the best goods for their shops and events first hand. For the other half, vendors can sleep in because the day starts at 5 a.m.

And as for the general public, doors don’t officially open until 8 a.m.

A floral prop manager for a TV show carts a multi-tiered load around in search for the perfect finishing touches on her set; an engaged couple mills about looking at wedding bouquets. Others are there just for the thrill of it all.

“My daughter’s getting married this weekend, and we’re having the reception at our house,” said Susan Chadney of Hollywood Hills as she clutched a large bundle of chrysanthemums to her chest.

Chadney added as she motioned to her East Coast friend, “Prices are reasonable and it’s fun — it’s something I wanted to take my girlfriend from Pennsylvania to see.”

Depending on the buyers’ needs, desired specimens are then wrapped in newspaper and twine and, if the client feels particularly ambitious, placed gingerly among other protected bundles on an oversized metal crate with multiple levels.

For the past couple of years, however, it is the public that has increased in attendance, instead of the florists that buy from the wholesalers and farmers that reside at the mart.

“Regular florists aren’t doing so well,” said Kathy Yonemitsu of Indio Desert Floral, one of the vendors inside the mart. “More of the public are coming in.”

Kathy and her brother, Ken Yonemitsu, sit at the cash register of their section of the mart on a busy Friday morning. They’re continuing their parents’ flower farm, which was founded 42 years ago. Indio started selling in the mart in 1997.

“Because of the economy, people only buy what they need,” Kathy said as she took a break from selling lilies shipped from the company’s Salinas, Calif. farm. “It used to be a really good business.”

Ken nodded his head in agreement.

“You can get orchids for cheap at Trader Joe’s and Costco now,” he said. “The grocery stores bypass the middleman and go for the wholesaler.”

Because of their convenient availability, part of the flower’s allure has disappeared.

These ornamental plants are the ultimate manifestation of temporary beauty, and yet there is an entire district dedicated to the luxury of decoration. People will still coo at the sight of a bouquet extended to them in a gesture of kindness, or sigh in front of altars laden with blossoms. The mart, in turn, is a shrine to ephemeral beauty.

Many Angelenos take the availability of these flowers for granted, leaving their suburban backyards to the care of gardeners we know only on a first-name basis.

In the meantime, farmers and wholesalers keep selling their living products to those willing to brave the wholesale districts, the equivalent of the commercial Wild West, where buyers can sometimes become uncomfortably close to sellers.

But these vendors also know that times are changing. Shoppers sniff the dirt at the mart for a bargain for their celebrations, but only if Ralph’s roses can’t cut it.

Any farmer knows the fruits of labor depend on the season, however, as Ken names what flowers are available at certain times of the year.

“After all, you can’t stop nature,” he said.

Clare Sayas is a junior majoring in public relations. Her column, “Lost & Found,” runs Thursday.