It hasn’t been that long since our last killing freeze. What
an unpredictable spring it has been, and we will just slam right into summer. I
would really enjoy some warm afternoons and cool nights before the heat
descends upon us. The roses are blooming. When roses that have taken so long to
get established bloom, I don’t want to do anything but sit beside them and
smell their perfume.
They looked like twigs when they were first planted. It has
taken a little longer to get them established because of the weather. I neglect
them. I take a survival of the fittest approach to rose growing. They are among
the hardiest of plants and the secret is to find the right location for the
right rose. If you are successful then you will be rewarded by wonderful days
of blooms and scent.
Before spring gets here I often have to go to the nursery
and fondle the leaves of the plants. This is a poor substitute for spring but
sometimes it will pull me through the last of winter. It is a completely
tactile fantasy, stroking the leaves and wishing for spring. Doing this keeps
the use of heavy drugs down when it is too cold to think about going outside
and digging.
Yesterday the tornado hit Moore. Today they are digging
among the rubble for the survivors. In little ways we are all survivors, called
to go on in spite of the sorrow of sifting through the rubble. It is an
unimaginable horror, this job of searching for loved ones.
Spring always brings the violent weather to Oklahoma. The
storms of great destructive forces taking lives and destroying property blow
through here again. The beauty of the roses will only last until the winds of
the spring storms come. Like the roses each of us blooms in the right location.
I take my tea and enjoy my roses while I can. Last week I was able to sit
beside them on most days. They are fragrant and full of blossoms. Wonderful!
Today the winds have passed through here. Most of the petals
of my roses are gone. The bushes look to be in mourning, as their branches lay
in the mud. Flowers ripped from the bush. So it is with all of us as we sit and
wonder at the destruction that we have survived.
Well said, Mary.
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