The rose that started it all

Fun, photography, Roses

Meet Skylark.

Skylark. Photo by the author.

Skylark. Photo by the author.

While I’ve always loved roses, and planted many in the many different gardens I’ve had since my early twenties, its Skylark that’s responsible for this current phase, and this project of reflective roses.

I’d handed in my PhD, been out on the town drinking gallons of bubbles and crashed in a inelegant tangle of limbs, clothes and streamers, whereupon I slept prodigiously. For the next forty hours, except for the odd moment of bladder induced wakefulness, and the urgent need for Panadol, I was out to the world.

When I re-entered the world, I was bit bereft. I’d been working six days a week for years on the heavy blue tome and I realised just how much it had come to take over my life. My sister rescued me. Go and buy a new rose, she said, one that speaks to all the fun you are going to have in the future.

Skylark was the rose that came home with me that day.

She, plural, meaning the rose and my sister, got me thinking about the symbolic nature of roses, and eventually this project of a reflective/meditation deck was born. It’s given me a great deal of pleasure, and continues to do so.

The photography is really stretching me. While I had paid a photographer last summer, he didn’t finish the job and then I got inducted into the joys of licence agreements. So I have some wonderful photos of many roses that aren’t going in the deck, which I probably won’t ever use even though I paid for them.

I purchased a new camera, which was an inbetween step between a basic point and shoot and a dslr. I am not happy with it. I get better shots in close up from my IPhone. Still, it’s all good learning, and I spend time with the roses on warm summer evenings. I think I’ll buy a DSLR in the January sales. Of course I will have missed the once bloomers, so this project won’t be finished now until this time next year.

Oh well. If that’s all I have to worry about, I’m doing OK in the grand scheme of things.

One thought on “The rose that started it all

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