the matter of life and death

My apartment is blacktop-in-the-sun hot. And despite keeping both fans going 24/7, I see it has had its effect.

As disappointing as it is to see the blooms on the spidey orchid show me their first, barely visible signs of imminent collapse (slightest tint shift and curl of the long elf foot sepals), they're giving off a hell of a scent. I'm transported: wild orchids on the road to Hana. Yes!

Well godspeed, orchids. Let me breathe it in. (Now if i could only find my imaginary way to those waterfalls we swam under.)