This morning I was looking out the window, and one of the things I love about living here is the early morning light. The golden, warm colors draw me outside. Try as I might, I can never capture its cast. The wind is past so today the dew on the grass glistens in the rising sun as a carpet made of glass. The quiet breeze that passes sounds as a silk dress rustling as a ghost passing by. The perfume scented with locust blooms and lilac.
I bought these rose bushes when we first moved here to remind me of the bride I once was now long ago.
When we married, I carried a bouquet of white daisies and golden yellow roses like this. When these first start blooming in the spring I am reminded of the years that are slipping though my fingers like sand though a hour glass.
On mornings like this it is easy to sit and dream of the coming of good things that are just around the corner. Of promises kept and of dreams to come and of life to be lived. Gone are the clouds today and in its place days filled with hope and promise. I think life is about going through so many doors into a secret garden. Once you find the large, rusty key and put it in the old padlock and slowly open the door, inside you find, waiting, beauty only imagined and as you look around, what you see is life that was never saw before.
On days like today, life is brought into clearer focus. The smallest drop of dew on the rose becomes a jewel that for awhile the rose petal wears that adds only beauty to its delicate flower that has yet to bloom.
Today on this beautiful day in April, I give you roses. To fill your day, with hope and with promise.