I’ve always had roses in my garden. In my old house, I had a hedge of 14 iceberg roses and when they shed the petals, it was snow in summer. I loved them.
Dr T has a green thumb. He loves native flora. I regret not sharing his interest when we were married. He created and kept a beautiful garden. Never a blade of grass out of place. I remember a particular argument with me (unfairly) accusing him of never doing anything for me. He calmly responded, he gave me a garden. I was so young then to truly appreciate the sentiment. I do, now.
Dr T and I had made a deal we would plant a rose bush in the garden on the anniversary of our wedding each year. The first one was Sweetheart and the last, Peace. Sums up our long relationship and where we are now! I really wanted to bring the Sweetheart rose bush with me when I moved but was reluctant in case it died. My former home is around the corner from where I now live, so I see the roses every day.
I’m not a roses girl, but if you gave me tulips … especially white tulips … well, that’s another story. I much prefer roses in the garden. The only person who cuts and takes my roses indoors, is my neighbour who has my permission to enjoy them when I’m not home.
The last few days have been gruelling of driving long distances in very poor weather. This morning I rose at 6:30am. It was dark and cold in the chalet in the Wheatbelt, … minus 1 degree C I’m told. I lay in bed for another half an hour trying to warm before the dash to the kitchen for coffee. While in bed the freight train rolled past. I felt the rumble through the floor. A delicious feeling of vibration that travelled up my spine. I enjoyed the moment thinking I’ll be home for the night. I felt a pang of wanting to be home and where the roses are.
I left work early and arrived home just before dusk to find my front garden is awash with roses. Probably the last of them before winter pruning.
Enjoy with me!
Until next time
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Friday : Rose
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