Zen of Roses Before the Flowers

Hello to all,

My rose bushes were a gift to me by my lady. Over the years we had been together I had told her of the rose bushes my mother had lovingly tended. I used to bring my lady roses from fifty year old bushes that grew behind my previous apartment building. Bought roses are nice but ones delivered by fingers and forearms pricked by thorns mean more.

I planted the bushes last year and small roses grew from their first spindly branches. It amazed me how the dry looking sticks that had come in a cardboard box dropped on my porch by UPS could do that. Together my lady and I mulched the ground and put up a cute wire fence to protect them from the sneaker feet of passers-by.

Today I pulled and hoed out the persistent weeds trying to infiltrate the bed. I knelt down and gently kneaded rose food into the rich soil around their roots. Already there are lush green leaves sprouting, tempting me with the beauty to come. Vibrant reds, soothing white, blazing orange, and soft pink that will glow against the verdant leaves in the afternoon sun. No matter the direction we approach the front door from, they will be there. They will nod their petaled heads in greeting. They will thank us for the love, caring and morning talks we have.

I strive to never forget that roses aren't just the flowers and buds that get cut and put in vases to bring their beauty inside, or get gifted to friends and neighbors to brighten their days. They are also the roots, canes, branches, thorns and leaves that make it all possible.

Namaste, Wayne