STOPPING TO SMELL THE ROSES...

" It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought."

-James Douglas, Down Shoe Lane-

This morning I tiptoed out the back door of the Quill and caught the morning sky with a hint of a sleepy blush upon her rosy cheek...A light chill blanketed the land causing the blackberry blossoms to swaddle themselves in their petals to ward off the cool morning air...Most of the world lay sleeping before me as the camera quietly clicked away. One yellow iris decided to stretch out a petal to test the dewy day...Preferring to remain in her sleepy state until later in the morning.

The tranquil sounds of the night were fading as sweet bird melodies began to drift from the bramble where brilliant red flowers were showing off their fiery color...I noticed that last weeks tiny red velvet oak leaves have all but disappeared...Only a few remain...The wild ferns waved a shy good morning to me from their hiding places among the stones on the rocky ridge line...The first rays of the sun winked at me through the thick foliage of the old oaks in the east woods...Reaching out its fingertips to tickle the tops of the trees with its warm touch...Casting its golden smile over the dawning day. The sweet faced False Garlic, also known as Crow Poison, began to show its sleepy face...I weaved my way though a wooded trail scented with the musk of earth hoping to catch the deer arise from their slumber. I was too late. Continuing my trek through the hush of the dawning day, warmed by the memory of the sun kissed Yellow Lady Banks glowing against the stone well last evening gave me pause to stop and smell the roses one more time...Sweet scented clusters of pale yellow roses dripping, draping, and dangling their bright beauty softening the landscape of our cottage...Reminding me to savor the common everyday blessings; the sights, the sounds, the scenes, and the smells of a dew-drenched morning where the Master Gardeners footprints appear in the soft green grass of the garden. I pause beside the old stone well, just where I stood last evening admiring the handiwork of nature, and recall the words of Dr. Margaret Moore Jacobs in "Roses Every Day"..."Our earthly life is an unfolding like the opening up of the petals of a rose. Yesterday the bud was there, the petals tightly folded around the heart of the flower, like a glorious promise. Today the full-blown rose is there in all its glory, beauty, and wonderful fragrance. And tomorrow we shall find the soft velvety petals strewn on the warm earth. But the memory will be treasured on a cold winter day when there are no roses..."

A garden is a good place to be sometimes, when out daily lives get too tangled up with the

"everydayness" of living. The heart and soul, the body and mind come to rest just by looking at the living green of a garden in the springtime.I hope you have enjoyed a morning walk with me here at Quill Cottage and that your day is overflowing with the blooming beauty of heightened awareness of your everyday blessings!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy