When I was a little girl, we lived next door to a man who tended the most beautiful roses. Brick walkways covered with moss led to a small but well loved garden. Rosebushes lined the beds… all colors, all kinds, identified by tiny tags sinking into earth. My favorite of all were the apricot roses…The most special in all of the garden, he told me. Sometimes, he would let me walk with him as he watered and fed them…I wasn’t allowed to touch them, too delicate, he’d say. But every so often he would bend a stem towards me so I could breathe that blossom in. And on the luckiest of days, I’d collect the fallen petals from the walkway and hold them in my hand so tightly till they were bruised with love. My very first treasure:)) I was enthralled with that garden and all that grew there. There was magic there. Every time I see a rosebush I remember:))
So much beauty and treasure in my life. I am so grateful for all the moments and spaces in between.
Lovely day, all… make it amazing ~