Breath our scents, walk our landscape, hear our melodic dialects, delight in our savory morsels, touch each rich texture, and the southern essence remains a mystery. The ethereal south, unfathomable to the five senses, lives in the heart. If you believe in magic, and can survive the devastating passions of an open heart, just possibly, you stand a chance of living a moment as a southerner. Most people aren't brave enough to be southerners, even the ones that are.

Friday, May 02, 2008

Old Friend


This rose was already well established just outside my office window when I arrived 18 years ago. Today, I've moved on, and now supervise this office, but the rose remains. From the best sources I can get half reliable memories from, I believe the rose was set out, somewhere around 1981 or 82. That makes this rose older than a lot of people who will read this. It also probably looks a lot better than a lot of people who will read this. Well, it's prettier than me anyway, even if it does have blackspot, which I don't have; just age spots.
Posted by Dread who is off to enjoy a weekender beneath the Carolina moon.
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