It's been a good year for the roses


Artist: Ivy Popow, Oil and Acrylic

I stole a moment for myself this morning at dawn. I had jumped out of bed like a scared cat at 2:45 am this morning due to a large and pressing work project. I found myself humming the song "I don't like Mondays" and I was out of caffinated espresso. That's about as dark as it gets.

I sat working intently until just before dawn when suddenly the world was awash in pink. Everything! Everywhere! I jumped up from the table, threw on my shoes and headed out into the prairie. There was a vertical stripe of rainbow rising up from the south horizon- it made me gasp outloud. I walked down the gravel road and found so many prairie roses in full bloom- lovely flowers all along the sides of the roads and into the prairie preserves. The buds were bright pink and the flowers every hue of pink. Many of the petals had just fallen into the untravelled road- so I was walking like a bride following the flower girl among the pink petals.

I walked to the wetlands- the duck, pelicans, geese, two muskrats sat on the front porch of their lodge watching the sunrise as well. There was only a sliver of clear sky on the very edge of the horizon where the rising sun came through to turn all the rest of the low grey clouds brilliant pink- in every direction.

I walked back- smiling.


What a lovely picture you and the artist painted! Wild roses tug at my heart...memories of walking home from Dist. 61 school, along our dusty road, and seeing the lovely pinks decorating the ditches. Also, it brings Mom to mind...she loved those first! Oh, and I will send to you (privately) a poem I read at Crossings a couple years ago, titled "Bride". Love to you, Niece!

very nice

I was going to post Carolyn's "Bride" poem on here, but I guess she is shy. Anyway, your beautiful words reminded me of her poem. "Great Minds" and all that!
Love, Mom


Rosy petals

Shower me

As I process

Across the lawn.

I am a bride

In T-shirt

And grass-stained knees.

How beautiful the scent,

How ministering the breeze.

How short

This moment.

Carolyn McDonald, Spring, 2006, revised February 14, 2007

When you started talking about the roses I started thinking about Grandma, how we would walk down to get the mail and paper and then into the ditches to find just the right 1-2 roses and walk back up to the house and she would get out her rose bowl and put on the kitchen table and one on the dinning room table and the whole house would smell so good. I still stop to smell those roses. Good post sista.

Nice pick of words. Let's see what happens.

Waarom neemt Sander zelf geen twitter! Als hij zo graag wil twitteren:D ik zou 'm volgen hoor!

Awesome post I bookmared it on Delicious and submitted on Digg. Hopefully it sends more traffic your way

Great read. I also think it could be a bit longer ;)

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This page contains a single entry by Kathryn Draeger published on June 14, 2010 8:35 PM.

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