Gone over, but not forgotten

There are still buds on some of the roses, I doubt they will come to much, but there they are, clinging on for every moment that they can.

Meanwhile in the lounge, the last cut of the roses are looking a little, erm, dry.

I keep walking past them and thinking 'I must deal with them'.

I keep walking past them and thinking 'for heavens sake chuck them on the compost and clean out the favourite vase ready for next year'.

Does this happen?

It does not.

Instead I start to walk past, pause and step back and look at them and think that in this dried state they have beauty.  Of course dried flowers have great beauty, this is not news,  but these are accidental dried flowers and are the product of inactivity rather than deliberate choice.

Yet now they have become a deliberate choice.  Now I look and make sure I notice them and they make me smile.  I am not casting them out as I see their new beauty.  This is not the beauty of them forming from buds, this is not the beauty from when they reached their peak which meant someone with a pair of trigger-happy secateurs cut them off in the their prime. No this is the beauty of how they have aged and what they have now become.  They will not get removed for quite some time: that I can guarantee.

 Take care and be kind.

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