My neighbor's orchids put me in the mood to go back to the American Orchid Society last Sunday, to see what my true orchiding neighbors had been doing since I went there the first time, years ago. I remembered a concrete circle and the beginnings of a garden, and a greenhouse, but not much more. Well, since then, it's filled out. To say the least.
It's filled up with trees that look like they're draped for a costume party,
and walks that circle and encircle
and deep shady places to stop and sit.
Here, outside the greenhouse, the orchids tower.
Inside the greenhouse is a conjured jungle.
In real life, in person, they seem more like strange inventions, hybrids of insect and flower,
Not cheeky, like the flowers down my street that thrive in relative neglect, but things you give your time to, your head and heart to.