The roses are late this year and a bit battered by the rain. I'm no good with roses, except for ramblers - they seem to suit my untidy, careless gardening style. This tough old one is Wedding Day, my personal favourite. It has tiny primrose buds, followed by simple lemon white flowers with a nutmeg fragrance that mature into pink veined blossoms before leaving an orange hip.
I wasn't feeling much like taking a photo today, too idle and uninspired, until I read this poem in the Writer's Almanac and was prompted to go out and enjoy the roses in the rain. If only I could have willingness to give something, from my small self, to the entirety of the world.

THREE GOOD THINGS:
Being home again
Lot of lovely and surprising messages about my blip birthday - I had overlooked it entirely!
Blackcurrants ripening