How does it feel...
to be the last rose of the season?
Nature photo of the day: September 29th, 2024 - last rose in the rain.
the sky is weeping tears of happiness and sorrow letting emotions spill over and out from clouds of riled grey for today the last rose adorns the defensive shrub which was home to hundreds of blossoms before it one by one the p e t a l s begin to fall leading to dormancy slumber peace and quiet as the rain falls I wonder what the last flower of the season feels as she withers all alone with her memories of a beautiful summer long gone - Cheryl M.
Today, the village is particularly quiet, for here in Breb, Sunday remains a day of rest.
Outdoor work in general is frowned upon, unless the weather is nice and there are chores to be done which otherwise wouldn’t fit into the “work week”.
Naturally this excludes milking the cows, feeding the pigs and cleaning out the stables. On the other hand, one shouldn’t make hay, haul hay, cut firewood or do anything too strenuous.
But drinking brandy and going to church is okay. In any order that you wish, it’s still a village after all. So long as you are walking, the zero tolerance law for alcohol doesn’t apply.
However, on a rainy day, as it is today, most people are tucked inside their homes, sitting by a fire as they watch the continuous drops fall from the sky.
It’s a day for introspection and baking, napping and sipping a hot cup of tea.
Somehow, this day signifies the abrupt end of summer. It’s a combination of the falling temperatures, dark sky and last rose that makes it feel so.
Last night we remembered at last minute, just moments before sunset, that we had not yet harvested our blue corn (though we had planned to). So Csermely and I headed out in our pajamas and harvested what was ripe, knowing that the rain forecast for today would have been enough to ruin our many hours of watering them throughout the summer months when it didn’t rain at all.
As we were coming inside, in the near dark, we noticed the final rose of the season. I couldn’t help but think how it feels to be the last one…
Especially after we just finished watching Titanic on Netflix.
As for the journal prompt of the day:
Have I ever noticed the last blossom on a plant? How did it make me feel?
Did it make me feel happy, sad, hopeful, content?
Go through some emotions and feel what comes up. Perhaps even write a poem about your experience.
Wishing you a restful Sunday,
Cheryl