These roses were my companions from Tuesday until today. Just a five dollar bouquet from Trader Joes, but Oh! they had the sweetest, most potent scent. And they are just like the roses that used to twine up the old tree in my backyard…as a young woman-girl. They rambled and curved into bowers of sanctuary and when I climbed the tree almost to its top, I would have to carefully avoid the thorns as I picked my way higher and higher.
The bouquet was faded and no longer sweet-scented this morning, but still looked beautiful when I dropped it over the porch railing on top of the little pile of Christmas cedar-berried branches. If I could see them now in the icy rain…they might be more beautiful still.
I believe I am rambling a bit, like my old roses…but my brain is rather weary, in a very good way, for it is tired out by the joy of writing and sharing and tending and watching a little dream come true this past week.
And even as I write this, my eyelids keep drooping, so I will just “hello!” and I will be back here when I am able and awake and send you love in the meantime.