Baby Roses

in the Garden

Dear Nestlings,

I am behind, behind, behind this week. Often I know when I’m behind, but this time the 4th of July kept me entirely ignorant. Such is the way of summer. Time runs differently and it’s hard to juggle the idea of responsiblities and of taking a proper interest in doing nothing at all.

One of my summer activities this year was planting a bunch of roses. You know this as well as me because I’ve made some of you dig holes and I’ve made the rest of you wander around the yard with me to see how all my rose bushes are doing each evening. Recently, I’ve been making the lot of you take a look at this little baby rose out front.

I’ll attach a photo of my finger next to the rose to give you some idea of scale if you haven’t been forced to come look at it yet:

The thing that’s interesting about this rose bush and its baby rose is that it won’t always make baby roses. It’s meant for big things in the future and will move along with regular sized blooms eventually. But this is its first year of blooming and it’s doing its best. Meanwhile, I wasn’t supposed to let this rose grow on it this year. You see, the rose book I bought for all my rose endeavors encouraged me to pinch this bloom away before it grew. It told me that for the first year of my rose bush’s growth I should allow it to concentrate on its root systems and on getting established in its new home.

I totally get this, and I understand I could be a better gardener if I followed rules, but I really couldn’t do it. I really couldn’t pinch that rose bud away (or thin the zinnias, or pull out the encroaching daisies either). It just wasn't something I could handle this year: the ruthless exactitude that would be best for my garden plants.

But despite my poor behavior and my inability to follow directions (again), I’m still feeling encouraged by my baby rose. Because there are just times in life when all we can manage to do is grow a baby rose, and I hope that everyone around us—including ourselves—can appreciate what we’ve done when that happens. Maybe we know we should be concentrating on more serious things. Maybe we’re just getting settled and feeling a little low on resources. But still: we make the baby rose. The perfect, lovely baby rose.

And it’s a beautiful thing. Really, it is.

Love,

Mom