Rock rose. Rock rises again.
A picture in pink greets us as our eyes scan the rockery. The bees are busy buzzing in and out of pink foxglove flowers, while pink geranium blooms crowd each other for their fair share of light. The deep pink hints of emerging hydrangea tease us, while light pink hostas stand to attention.
The roses are joyous with a plentiful supply of pink petalry, but it’s their unrelated namesake that interests me. Sistus, the rock rose. Every day a profusion of pretty pink petals. And every evening they’re gone, crashed out, waiting for dawn when a myriad more will appear.
- Category: True Stories Told As Fiction
11 comments add one below
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Jeff Taylor almost 6 years ago
"Petalry" Hmm... Seems legit 😉 It's a nice scene to end the longest day with. Thanks Neville 😊
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Neville Hunt almost 6 years ago
Thanks Drew and Jeff. It’s all due to Mrs H’s planting scheme.
Jeff, I’m not sure if ‘petalry’ is legit, because I made it up, but maybe it wasn’t mine to make up and someone had done so before. Autocorrect didn’t like it though. Now I’ll have to find out.
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Neville Hunt almost 6 years ago
Jeff, looks like ‘petalry’ might be a verb (strangely) and means turn to stone. There are horticultural mentions too though. Huh! Nothing new under the sun😖
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Jeff Taylor almost 6 years ago
I saw a couple of flower-arranging type references to it. It's still a nice word 😊
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Neville Hunt almost 6 years ago
Thanks!🙂
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Steve McBrevity almost 6 years ago
Is there such a thing as heavy petalry I wonder?
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Peter Henderson almost 6 years ago
Some beautiful word writing, magic stuff Nevile
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Neville Hunt almost 6 years ago
Thanks very much Peter.
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Christopher almost 6 years ago
Very vivid, Neville. Puts one right in the scene.
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Jamie Clapperton over 5 years ago
Enjoying re reading this Neville , it's lovely. :-)
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Neville Hunt over 5 years ago
Thanks Christopher and Jamie.
