Through the Green Fuse
May. 26th, 2006 06:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphRoses are now exploding from the bushes in the back yard. Not literally, of course. Wouldn't it be interesting if they did, though? It would be like living in one of those old cartoons where such things were routine. You'd be standing by the rose bush, looking at the buds (which do possess a shape reminiscent of various ballistic objects), and suddenly there'd be a popping sound and a bud would explode into a rose, then more popping sounds and more roses, like fireworks going off, until the whole bush was covered in fresh blooms. That would be so much fun!
But, no, these are just ordinary roses, and their blossoming is but figuratively explosive. Still, the blossoms are noticeably growing in number every day. I expect perhaps half a dozen more to have opened by the time I wake up this afternoon, unless the day remains as gray as the morning now is. The flowers always bloom faster when the sun is bright.
Plants have a more congenial relationship with the sun than I do. I get along better with the clouds, the fog, and the overcast. This morning's overcast is particularly nice, prodded by deep green pines and enlivened by swift birds whose dark and fluttering shapes inscribe paths above the forest. The breeze is fresh and cool and smells of damp. It's too bad I have to sleep. I'd like to go for a walk and let my swinging cuffs gather dew from the tall field grasses.
But, no, these are just ordinary roses, and their blossoming is but figuratively explosive. Still, the blossoms are noticeably growing in number every day. I expect perhaps half a dozen more to have opened by the time I wake up this afternoon, unless the day remains as gray as the morning now is. The flowers always bloom faster when the sun is bright.
Plants have a more congenial relationship with the sun than I do. I get along better with the clouds, the fog, and the overcast. This morning's overcast is particularly nice, prodded by deep green pines and enlivened by swift birds whose dark and fluttering shapes inscribe paths above the forest. The breeze is fresh and cool and smells of damp. It's too bad I have to sleep. I'd like to go for a walk and let my swinging cuffs gather dew from the tall field grasses.
