the scent that bemoans me of a dying rose 
not of death inferring, but of life preserving
through its folds it clutches senses
charting courses through darkened, rusted fences
or atop mountains shedding waterfalls as a love commences
unyielding layers, partaking of endless shades anew
unfurling through time, a slow peruse
all in a smell, as my imagination ensues
Transylvanian Lullaby-Erutan
inspired by the roses my daughter received for her graduation, i captured these images and as the scents enraptured my senses, the thoughts came. how beautiful a dying flower is to me. how even in its seemingly decay, behind the scenes, beneath the folds, life still breathes.
thank you for reading and for more of my flora photography you can view my gallery here.
