Perfection

All the more precious because so fragile and so transient, this rose (is it Josephine Bruce?) was at its best this evening, just before the threatened rain. The rain hasn't arrived yet, and it may be that the stem of the rose is strong enough to hold the weight even if the flower gets soaked, but I felt as I took this that this was the moment of perfection.

This is the last survivor of 3 roses I planted at least 25 years ago; its scent is fresh and apple-like and all-pervasive on a still morning. So far, it has never let me down...