I was out in the garden, cutting garlic scapes and Mendel’s peas to steam for supper and because I had scissors with me, I also cut roses and sage to bring in as well. I passed John on my way to the kitchen and he said, “There you are, with your colander of roses,” and I realized how lovely they looked, still fresh with rain, and worthy of a photo at least, if not (eventually) a poem.


Like mother, like daughter:
Oh, wow — what a beautiful display. Who taught you how to arrange flowers?
You, of course!
Your roses are gorgeous! Someone had the good grace to plant roses at Craigflower Manor and you have the good taste to cut them and put them in a jug for beauty’s sake…