A soppy post ahead in occasion of the rare 昙花一现 - with five epiphyllum blooms last night. The night-blooming cereus blooms the brightest and hardest for only a few hours past midnight and fade by dawn, giving rise to their other informal name 月下美人.
One myth has her blooming everyday for a brief few hours in hopes that her reincarnated lover will throw her a glimpse; another places her in distress, to be saved by a scholar and in return, she rewards him with aesthetic pleasure while longing for his reciprocal glance.
Never mind the similarity of the pining damsel, but long have I waited - a decade almost! - to see this nocturnal occurrence that has so inspired poetry and late night flower-viewing pavilion parties through the dynasties.
So to see this temporal bloom coaxed out of my famously clumsy hands after all this while, along with its myths, its poetry, its obstinate beauty, its stubborn refusal to recognise any sadness in the brevity of its life and therefore - and above all - its hope, truly feels like a gift from Nature and moves me greatly. Cue genuine stickman teardrop.