Orchids in sunlight

The law firm where I work has several glass top tables with orchid plants set on them. I stopped to look at one on my way back from break. One dozen blossoms follow the arc of the pale green stem, arranged back to back like extravagently dressed southern belles in two adjoining lines of a Virginia reel. The petals are perfectly sculpted symetrical curves, pearly white with veins of eggplant purple radiating out from the center. The secret heart of each blossom is dark purple velvet, with a pointed tip curling up like an elf's shoe. The sunlight slanting from one side makes the right edge of the petals shimmer.

Down below, the slender stem disappears into the bowl between two flat large dark leaves. They look vulgar, like impossibly large green tongues. It seems almost insulting to claim that they belong to the same plant.

Wisdom from chocolate

I just opened and ate two pieces of Dove chocolate. Inside the wrapper of one it read "Be true to yourself." Inside the wrapper of the other read "Go easy on yourself."

It strikes me as excellent advice, exactly what I need to hear. And it's especially easy to take, under the heady influence of chocolate.