"The tints of autumn... a mighty flower garden
blossoming under the spell of the enchanter frost."
~John Greenleaf Whittier
A little beauty, for a coolish autumn day. I grew that rose, well, me and all that the natural world has endured this year. It has really been a metaphor for what I have been through. The Covid left me with deep depression, and an almost complete lack of creativity and the ability to concentrate. It's called Brain Fog, and it apparently affects those over 60 who suffered from the original Omicron variant. It has been a difficult time, but things seem to be getting better. I am beginning to handle stresses better, and I think I have a better outlook for the feature, and as you might have noticed, I am embracing joy again, not fearing it. I don't know how much credit I can take for my rose, they are such hardy plants, but I did know how to care for it. And I know how to care for myself, I just needed to remember what to do.
Hot Cocoa Rose
Berkeley, Ca Autumn 2012
I really miss that garden in the Bay Area. It broke my heart to learn Sandy L. had tore it, and my Japanese Maple tree, out of the garden, out of nothing more then old fashioned spite. But that is her problem. I cared for my roses and that tree, but all she did was make her property worth less money. It's okay. I am not going to spend time thinking about it, because there is nothing I can do about it, but I have the knowledge that I know how to grow a beautiful, strong, spicy rose, and I will always have that happiness inside me. This yellow rose smells like a baked sweet potato with extra clove, cinnamon and honey. Next year, if we find ourselves extending our contract for the condo, I might consider adding another rose or two to the front porch rose garden. Maybe a brand new color I haven't tried before, like Pumpkin Patch or maybe Sterling, but I really loved the Hot Cocoa rose I grew when we lived in the studio. In any case, I want them to look pretty in autumn.
~Me
