Rose In Winter
It’s most odd to find the first rose of spring three months early.
Today after a one-hour vacation away from you–dear reader/rider– I cruised slowly up Dogbark Lane and spied a couple of blooms on our neighbor’s Fortune’s Double Yellow vine.
This rose is so wild and thorny and beautiful I had to get my own…seeing someone else’s was not enough. It only has one (monthlong) flush…it doesn’t repeat the way modern tea roses do…and being an oldie, needs no care, no water (now that it’s settled) and has no buggy enemies. It was planted in our yard near the ugliest shed-ever-sold-in-a-kit, and the rose must completely cover it in order to restore the yard to a semblance of beauty. Faux barns, while easy to put in place, insult the landscape.
But what OF an early bloom?
To me, it’s as strong as a tap on the shoulder by a polar bear.
Add this sign of an off-kilter season to the crescendo of news stories on “carbon offsets” (=purchasing eco-indulgences by wealthy transgressors, the books about how to save the world, the brief appearance and predicted waning popularity of the film “The Story Of Stuff“, the fashion shows that are reputed to raise awareness about being green, the fact that someone thinks the color BLUE will be the next “green”.
GOD. What can you do?
Smell that rose, not give up.
Dig in somewhere, and don’t give into grief.
At least not for too long, less you fail to be around for the next incredible act.