Wednesday, June 22, 2016


There is something about being idle in one finding oneself away from the obligations of work and no longer being an important cipher is the making of things, the thinking of ideas for stories or the invention of photographic possibilities for obtaining a job that is no longer of any importance.

This means that I can read and look and think. Unfortunately I find myself out of the loop of people who are in a position to be an influence on changing how we perceive society, even our immediate one.

As an example I noticed my bloom of Rosa 'English Elegance' in a transtion to the droop and the inevitable decline of a lovely rose past its prime.

So much of what we see now is brand new or protected to look brand new. As an example we have long forgotten that the purpose of paint on a car is to prevent corrosion. My Rosemary is upset at all the bumper (front and back) nicks which are inevitable results of having to parallel park on a crowded street. It doesn't affect me much. I know we could spend $2500 to make the bumpers look pristine and within a few days the little marks would be there.

My (and our) little garden is a good place to notice what plants do when they retreat into that stage close to the perennial oblivion of roses and the other plants that have a season and then decline into fall and winter dormancy.

This bloom ( its petals) has lost the regidity of the rose that has just opened. For the Vancouver Rose Society Show this coming Sunday those who will be exhibiting cut roses will cut their choices at their prime and place them in the fridge to keep them from going any further.

For me, while I understand the purpose, I also appreciate the beauty of something that is letting go, that is in that process of entropy that is a process that nobody can escape.

Fashion magazines have models, male and female, in the prime of youth. With the help of photographic correction methods skin pores are whisked away as well as unsightly bags and creases here and there.

And yet to this man, soon to be 74, there is beauty in that after stage of perfection. If metals can have patina and antiques look like antiques why cannot roses and people be seen in the same way?

Most recently a friend of mine who lives in Lodon had her birthday. The good words going her way thanks to that terrible facebook reminder are about, "You are still beautiful," "You still look good," or this damning one, "I know I say this every year but it's still true. You never seem to age."