You know you want me...

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 a 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.)