Saturday, June 14, 2008
Isn't she a beauty. As we all are, at 21. In a few days she'll be nostalgic for that tight, unblemished bud, and her long, firm stem. But for now, she basks in the sun ignorant to the spots and wilting it will create. And while she's probably wincing every time she catches a glimpse of those thorns in the mirror, they're really not that bad.
I could cut her now. Toss her in a crystal vase and prop her up in the middle of the dining room -- a real showcase. But truthfully, she outshines her neighbors in the front yard, so might as well let her enjoy being the belle of the bed. Besides, there is a certain charm that comes with age. We'll reminisce her fresh, pink next week. But we'll adore her full ruffles and count her many petals, which are opening and revealing more and more loveliness as the days creep along.
PS -- I think the neighbors are concerned that I take more pictures of my flowers than my children.