Perhaps sensing our celebration of all things nostalgic this year, and our continued lamentation on winter, this little orchid decided to gift us a few blooms while the wind and snow raged just outside the window. I’d noticed its bud bumps a few weeks ago, and hoped it would save the blooms for when we needed them most, and it did. There is something soul-enriching that happens when you are lucky enough to enjoy an orchid just a few feet from a snow-clad scene.
I’ve noticed the same enchanting perfume from the blooms as the last time it put on a show; at varying times in the day it releases this sweetness, as if it selectively choosing when to emit such beauty, teasing and hiding when it feels like it, pulling back when the world feels too thirsty. As someone who’s been accused, quite accurately, of being a coquettish tease, I admire such silliness.
More than admiration, I have an appreciation for an orchid that sees fit to come into bloom at the very bottom of our winter doldrums. There’s a certain grace in that, a gift in these dark days – something to keep us going until the first hints of spring arrive.
