Winter blooms (foliage is love)

I want growing things everywhere. I want vines climbing my walls and I want chloroplasts pumping out oxygen, the better to set things on fire. I want that fragile, green scent in the air and I want to see little buds coming out when everything outside is dead and frozen.

Picspam after the jump.

My orchid started blooming a few weeks ago, after a year of nothing. Now, apparently, it loves me again. It's sitting in my window, between the ferny thing and the odd leafy thing and the giant philodendron. Watching snow come down behind it is kind of surreal but really lovely.

Also, I found a rose in a bottle of Mike's hard in my dorm one freezing Monday morning. I thought it was poetic. Nothing goes together like bitch beer and roses.

There are too many plants in my room already, but I still want some rosemary, and maybe some mint as well. I'm no cook, but the rosemary smells nice and the mint may prove useful come mojito season.

Schlepping these things to school and back is always a heavy, dirty sort of an enterprise, but I need them. They make me happy. Some people hoard cats: I covet greenery. My habit is relatively benign.

I'll only have to schlep them back from school one more time, of course. My four allotted years of silly parties, intense studying, and equally intense irresponsibility are almost up.

I'm going to not think about that for a few more months and see how blissful denial works out.