To some a blossom is simply the presence of yet another â€śthing.â€? But, the phenomenon of a single flowerâ€™s cycle is comprised of an intricate network of not only things; but of frameworks and clockworks as well. The thing is what someone who half-heartedly glances or sniffs a flower is to recognize. Flowers smell â€śsweetâ€? and look â€śprettyâ€? and even feel â€śsoftâ€? but these are only the sensory images of a flower.
When the story of a blossom is brought to a spectatorâ€™s attention a framework begins to take shape. As each hidden petal begins to feel the heat of a ray tickling its shell it begins to shift. Once all the fingers of a blossom have wriggled free of the tightly knit bud they are positioned in an unrepeatable fashion and when observed as one their image is transformed.
The days wear on, the petals wilt and fall. Drying in the mulch. Scattered by the wind their seeds are planted and the cycle repeats itself in a never-ending continuum of dormancy, growth, life, aging, and death. This process could be applied to almost all natural sequences but there is significance to the story of one small bud. The tale of a single blossom and its impact is magnified when viewed over generations of gardens. It stuns many who have the will to stop and not only smell but also ponder the scent of the roses.