Ten rose bushes. That’s how many I have planted. I have nine in the backyard and five in the front, fourteen rose bushes total. Thirteen of them are medium to big shrubs, highly fragrant and continuously blooming. One of them is a spectacular rich, pink climber that will frame a window I have a view of when sitting in the garden living room. The colors range from peach, to pale yellow, deep yellow, light pink, deep pink, violet, plum, deep crimson, red, and variegated crème and rust. It will be a spectacular sight, when all these roses are in bloom. I imagine my garden as a healing space, surrounded by luscious, fragrant roses, the emblem of love in its highest form.I want to bathe in the sweetness of the smell, the way it calms my nervous system and ignites my sensory preceptors, so that things like hearing, sight and touch, are amplified.
I am profoundly thankful that as I go through this space of deep grief and healing, I have these roses to look forward to. I will evolve as they evolve. The smell alters my DNA. Perhaps that is why I am a gate keeper of the Rose. I recognize its deep healing power. As gate keeper my intention is to make my own oil from these roses of mine. To heal myself with my own hands, the power of what I have created. It is the dawn as night transforms into day. It is the light I know will greet me soon.
Photography By April Aronoff