Friend Mary and I were tooling down Ashby on the way to some forgotten, at the moment, garden adventure. I yelled, "Stop! I've got to get those cherry blossoms."

 A little lens flare sneaked in here.

Then the sun hid behind a cloud.

Hello again Mr. Sun, and old house who has seen how many blossoming springs?

There is no stranger under the cherry tree.

Issa

Thank you Mary for your willingness to stop the car on a friend's whim.

Maman Cochet- you are about as close to perfection as this rose lover can imagine.

And on a perfect, a-little-bit-dark, early spring, overcast morning- what can a photographer do?

Since there are few roses in bloom, photo choices are easy. The first bloom of Poulsen's Pearl was only two feet away from Maman-- the same color but oh how different.

Pink easily whispered.  " t h e m e."

Daughter Anna says the plants are like divas, "I'm ready for my close-up!"

Teas bloom early here, and G. Nabonnand left me breathless on several occasions-- how lucky to finally catch blooms in luscious light.

Now for a restful  g r e e n.

Rose de Rescht-- there are no more words.

Belle Poitvine

Rehmannia

Roseraie de l'Hay

I have never been able to grasp the meaning of time. I don't believe it exists. I've felt this again and again, when alone and out in nature. On such occasions, time does not exist. Nor does the future exist.

Thor Hyerdahl 

The aphids always arrive first. After they munch rose buds for a week or so, my nervous search for soldier beetles begins. Where are they? Are they coming this year? 

A few arrive on the scene to devour a multitude. As the days progress, they increase and are particularly visible in flight as the sun goes down. I shot this little gem last year.

He's been waiting in a folder, on my computer, for 12 months! 

If he or his family appear amongst your roses to snack on aphids, you've got a new friend.

I'd be rich if I could market these little darlings.