Basket for All Seasons
I sift dried rosebuds and petals out of the basket with my bare hands, removing stems and pointed leaves. The desired bits are placed carefully in a glass apothecary jar. A litter of dried stigma or pollen, tiny yellow crumbs from the center of the rose, falls through the weave of the basket, remaining on the tabletop. Placing the lid on the jar, I admire the multicolored confetti of petals contained within the shapely glass vessel. A petite black cat hops onto the table to examine the installation.
I place the clippers and gloves in the basket and carry it, hanging from the crook of my arm, until I am standing before the roses. Then I pull the gloves over my hands and select from the two pairs of clippers. The basket hangs in the kitchen all year long. In the winter, it was full of drying mandarin peels, ribbons, and paint. Now it is time again for roses. I clip close to the bloom, letting the flower heads tumble into the basket. Then I prune the branch properly at the node to stimulate future healthy growth.
Neon red, maroon, white, and yellow. I bring my harvest inside and set it on the ground for the four young cats to enjoy. They encircle it, sniffing. One watches a spider run from the basket. Another snatches a yellow rose between her teeth and scampers away with it. Rescuing the spider with a jar, I return him to the garden. After collecting my stolen rose from my sleek little thief, I hang the basket of blooms from the hook in the kitchen.
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