I'm again watching lightning flash through the darkened sky and trying to guess where the next blinding, crackling bolt will appear. It's all back. THIS FOG isn't part of the plan. For a moment, I wonder if I should just turn back and forget the whole thing. They're among the most beloved flowers, too.
People take great care of their roses.
But not all roses have big blossoms and not all require persistant care. Some are small and independent, and are largely forgotten. It doesn't take all that long to find wilderness. It seems to be coming from the old apple orchard, or maybe from the young pines just beyond. We can't see the bird doing the whistling, and we won't go looking for it.