How do they do it, I wonder. . . There is brilliant warming sunlight now and then, but October days are gray and chilly for the most part, and nights are cold.
The north wind sweeps through the village touching everything with its icy fingers, and yet roses continue to bloom and paint our garden with their delicately tinted complexions. The place feels like a monastery enclosure, even in late autumn.
October's roses are not (of course) as large or as fragrant as their summer sisters, but the small and hopeful forms are flawless in their own natural way, and they are potent reminders that there is wild and elemental grace in every season.
6 singing pebbles:
Hi Cate
A lovely rose, ours are mostly over but I will have to check. Just in case.
Regards
Guy
Goosebumps for sister rose, that shines on :)
Beauty!
Beautiful photograph.
Your phrase, "wild and elemental grace" gives me an especially graphic and energetic visual. I love your writing.
OM
October roses are miracles.
An October rose is a perfect lesson for me right now. Thank you....
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