ROSES

The roses I encountered in Italy were huge.

When I placed my hand, spread out around them in a wide cup, careful not to actually touch them, they filled the cup of my spreading hand.

Roses grow prolifically in Rome and Tuscany. In fact, they appear to grow like weeds.

Their aroma is not like the roses we get from the florist. Nor is it like the roses that grow in my garden here in Florida. They have a light, uplifting aroma which beckons a dance.

These roses in Italy seem to grow to be beheld, not to be picked and placed in a vase in the parlor.

Maybe, picking one rose bud,  placing it in a narrow vase on the desk, is an important role for a rose to play in the scheme of things.

Italy is full of ancient wonders, yes, but the most magnificent of all these wonders is the rose.