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In what has become one of the most frequently quoted lines of all time from his writing, William Shakespeare once said "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet", and while that may very well ring true on the scent front, it's hard (for English speakers) to imagine a rose actually going by any other moniker. This small, charming four letter word instantly conjures up vivid memories for most people and has been the very name by which we have indeed called this flower for hundreds of years now.
Like countless others during that time, I place roses at the very top of my list of favourite flowers. Curvaceous, beguilingly scented, relatively hearty (the wee little rose bushes we have on our front patch of lawn continued to bloom until early November last year), and as gorgeous as the day is long, it's easy to see why so many go weak in the knees for this perpetually romantic flower – not to mention fashion, artwork, and other items that depict it.
Roses have an allegorical quality when it comes to life itself. They are fabulously beautiful and have many endearing qualities, but they also rest atop a stem of sharp, painful thorns. What one sees on the surface is not always the full story. I can relate to their mixtures of beauty, romance, and discomfit. It speaks to my soul and encourages me to always keep my head up like a rose in full bloom, reaching for the sun, instead of focusing on the hardships below.
There has never been a time in my life when I didn't love roses. They grew in the gardens of most of my childhood homes and are the only thing I opted to plant in the aforementioned teeny, tiny plot (it's but a few feet long and perhaps three or four feet wide) that we have to garden in on the front yard of our condo. I would almost go so far as to say that I need roses. They bring me a certain kind of joy that no other flower, even those I adore nearly as much, can and their scent is, undoubtedly, amongst my most beloved as well.
My wardrobe is splashed with roses, as is my home decor. They appear in my jewelry box, closest, throw pillows, paper crafting projects, and hair accessories, as well as playing a star or supporting role in various perfumes I've dabbed on my skin over the years. I buy rose scented candles, beauty products (if I can find ones my uber sensitive skin can tolerate), and even adore eating rose flavoured foots (good Turkish delight is, to my mind, one of the best candies on earth - Purdy's makes an especially lovely love gluten-free one here in Canada, if you're in the market for a package).
Unless the winter has been an especially harsh and long lasting one, May nearly always brings with it the first glorious, inspiring roses of the season (the largest public concentration of which, here in Penticton, can be found at our beautiful little local rose garden down by Okanagan Lake) and that fact makes my heart - and nose - sing with joy!
Whether you're as wild about roses (of which there are more than a hundred species and thousands of varieties) as I am, chances are you like these sublimely pretty garden dwellers in one form or another (real deal, art, fashion, food, etc) and share at least enthusiasm for their return each spring.
The rose is one of those extra special blooms that is adored near and far. They bring us happiness, speak volumes of romance and friendship, and are a powerful reminder of just how incredibly lovely the warmer half of the year is. I couldn't, come to think of it, picture life without roses - and that fact alone ensures they'll always be my favourite flower.