Bad Hair Day

This is all that is left of one of the roses I blipped a few days back. It looks so stark, so naked, so frazzled, so exposed. It looks a little panicked, a little undone, a little surprised, a little embarrassed.

When I put the lens of my point and shoot right next to this petal-less flower, I thought I heard it scream -- not the camera, but the flower! Maybe it was just a groan, a wimper, a whine. I'm sure it was trembling. Well at least shivering. The wind was cold and the clouds were dark.

I think it was having a bad hair day. Somedays I feel like that -- embarrassed, exposed, undone, panicked and I just want to scream. Maybe hiss and spit too. I wouldn't want a lens in my face on one of those days.

This wasn't a "bad hair" day for me, but it sure was for my little petal-less rose.

Now the clouds are high in the evening sky and the moon is concealed and the little petal-less rose sits under that sky and with a sigh, holds its head high.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol