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Being as my birthday is in June, roses have always held a dear place in my heart. They are my birth flower not only in name but in practice, as witnessed by the beautiful birthday bouquets my mom would always pick for me on the morning of the 22nd, carefully selecting a few heavy-headed blossoms from her bushes to tuck in amongst peonies, pink poppies and canterbury bells.
Today, though I've still got a good month to go before I turn a year older, I would very much like to take a stroll through a rose garden, stopping to sniff every last one. They all smell so different, some very rose-y and some more like fruit or even licorice sometimes! And, in this candy-colored fantasy land, I would be wearing this outfit. And would escape without a single grass stain on my ass. Likely story.
