Do you love roses?

I do.  I remember when I started planning my wedding that I began to hear that so many people don’t love roses.  I can’t imagine.  They are so beautiful, cylindrical, conical, so elegant.  And sometimes, oh sometimes, they smell so amazing.  Like nothing else. 

During that time I began to garden.  I never had before.  A brown thumb that could kill anything.  And for many years I loved gardening.

Now I live in this house that has begun to represent all the hardship of the past few years.  It represents the darkness that grows within my and the literal darkness that disallows gardening here.  The beautiful trees prohibit it.

So I just finished a book (so many things I write about begin this way) and these best friends take walks to admire the roses.  And I realized that in this city of roses that I can’t wait for my partner and friend to be able to join me on walks to admire the roses.  When that will be I don’t know.  But as I run, hurry and rush around life I admire the people who slow down, walk around and admire the roses.