Saturday, February 11, 2006

You know you want me.

Orchid

That's what every orchid on the planet says.

Some of them whisper it chastely, with wimples as smooth and white as a nun's. Some murmur it demurely, with the grace and artistry of a geisha. Some of them trill it like a belle, all ruffles and frills and bright make-up. And some trumpet it brazenly, harlot lips pouted and veins throbbing.

In the language of flowers, orchids are the come on.

(If you're looking for a break from winter, visit the Botanic Garden and enjoy the flowers of the jungle, the succulents of the desert, the hothouse creations, and the green green green everywhere you look. It's a mini-vacation.)

See a bunch more orchids here.

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