It's getting dark. The clouds along the horizon are grey enough to hold rain. My eyeglasses are the wrong prescription. I don't know whether to wear a long or short sleeved shirt. Some people continue to use vuvuzelas for the purpose of evil. My shoes make to much noise on the gravel path. The garden is lousy with bees. The roses aren't as good as they used to be before they switched to natural pesticides. I don't like the way different roses on the same bush can be different shades and textures of the same color. I used to walk through the garden with people who are gone. Some roses are the wrong shade or brightness for the celebrity after which they're named (e.g. Cary Grant). Many hybrids don't even smell like roses. "Rose people" might be there with maps open making overly detailed comments. I should spend the time reading my friend's manuscript or watching a challenging film. The walk is eight blocks, uphill.
Reasons to Walk to the Rose Garden
For a few minutes looking through the backs of rose petals, the light might be just perfect. And it was.