For as far back as I can remember, there was nothing as lovely, when you first opened your eyes, than a pale, pink rose greeting you like the sun.
It was as if nature stopped by for a chat.
My new place, still in progress, was treated to one by Tony the florist, who, when he saw me passing by, jumped from his sweet little shop to present me with a real showstopper. I was thrilled knowing how beautiful it would look.
Then memories came flooding back to join nature’s table.
There wasn’t a time I visited Bill Hicks in the assortment of hotel rooms we’d canoodle in where there wasn’t a long stem rose by my side of the bed. Over twenty years later, I still have all the vases lined up like little reliquaries in homage to that era.
Funny how such a small gesture can uncover a treasure that still means the world.