The Last of the Roses

These are the last of our roses, for a while.

This is my last little haphazard nosegay on the kitchen counter:

The buds are looking a little battered, from all the rain and cold weather we've had the past several weeks:

This is the last [extremely] casual arrangement in the hallway:

Roses and pine cones and glittery acorns: who says they don't mix?

This is the last bloom that will keep me company at my desk for a while:

Because the gardeners have cut back all the rosebushes for the winter:

This is the ugly time in a rosebush's life. If she could, she'd probably be squealing at me, "Euwww! Don't take my picture! I'm all naked!"

But rosebushes, like people, need some down time. Some time to rest. Some time before they can suck it up again and face the world and start doing what they do best.

This is the beginning of a glorious show, come April:

But for now, rest up and dream, rosebushes. Get your beauty sleep.