It once bloomed in my garden …
a dawn bird
In response to Weekly Prompt’s Magenta Rose
Tag: roses
Roses and rainbows … my pick me ups
I return home after each trip expecting my front garden to be bare, but no, the roses keep on blooming. 
This rose has the most wonderful old fashioned perfume.
This is an intense pink rose, the colour, fashionable on lips these days.
I love how the white ice berg roses start off as pale pink buds.
I drove through waterfall rain in the Wheatbelt region recently and was blown away by a massive rainbow in Marchagee (between Moora and Carnamah). The picture is fuzzy because of the rain.
This was outside my plane window on the flight in this morning from Esperance. A mix of rainbow and solar halo. It was magnificent! 
Although I’m not sick of my frequent travel lifestyle, I am sick of travelling in poor weather.
Right now, home is where my heart is. It’s time to plan for a short break in the south west. Or maybe north. Ah!
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
In response to RDP – Saturday : Sick
Not all clouds have a silver lining …
In my garden, Perth, Western Australia
Tinted pink.
Have a great weekend!
a dawn bird
In response to FOTD Challenge
Flower of the Day Challenge : 24 April 2019 – Rose
My winter garden
I switched off the lights, computer and TV last evening. A belated Earth Day, if you like. I closed my eyes and experienced the storm that was passing overhead. The rain lashed down as only a Perth winter can deliver. There was some intermittent hail, too. I listened to every sound. It was intense. As a child I feared storms as my nanny had told me lighting can strike an exposed mirror, so I hid under covers as she threw a sheet over anything reflective. I no longer cower. I’ve come to realise storms are a sensory experience like no other.
In the darkness I envisioned my spring garden. I’m preparing the garden for my son’s wedding next year. He insists on his groomsmen coming to the home and having some pre-wedding photographs in “the family home”. His sentiment, warms my heart.
This morning I walked through the back gardens and found winter’s touch everywhere.
The mulberry tree is stripped bare of leaves.
There’s a soft and squelching carpet underfoot.
I sneaked in a quick picture of a nest when there were no birds around. 
I came around the home to the side garden where the geraniums always bloom. Their vivid colour in winter is an obvious delight.
In the front garden, the roses defy winter, having found intermittent warmth during autumn. They are putting up a showy display before pruning.
This bloom is as big as an infant’s face. The perfume is exquisite.
I love this rose that starts to bloom with the faintest tinge of pink.
There is just one pink rose on the front arbor.
With a promise of another, yet to bloom.
A walk around my winter garden took me from the stark, barren trees to beautiful blooms, and a promise of more to come. It mirrored life’s journey.
I’m in a good place. I now know, this is how it was meant to be.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
Memory of a mother
It is almost impossible for me to see a rose and it not trigger a memory of my mother. She loved them. She often tucked a rosebud in her chignon. I don’t recall vases of flowers indoors. My mother preferred wearing them.
As June is a month of celebration in memory of my parents’ respective birth anniversary, I thought I’d share my mother’s advice.
Be hospitable to all those who grace your home
Share like you have plenty to give
Be generous in thought and the practice will be easy
Smile even when you are hurting
Revenge is best left off the menu
Work hard for yourself, harder for those less fortunate
Say your prayers every day
Being rude says more about you, than the issue
Always wear clean underwear
Always sleep on clean sheets
Never go to bed angry
Pure silk and pearls never go out of fashion
Immodesty is not sexy
Pay your own way
Be a good in-law
Friendship is precious
Oddly enough I was never close to my mother. Although beloved by all who knew her, her gift to them was her warmth and accessibility. The child in me found her unattainable.
Always her silent student, her values continue to resonate with me. Perhaps, therein lies the legacy.
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
A Shared Space 
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