White RosesI really don’t mind the snow. It’s the chopping, scraping, salting, sliding, slipping, crusting, spinning and skidding of ice that puts me in a frosty mood.

The antidote arrived purely by accident.

We often buy a $3.99 mixed bouquet at Trader Joe’s featuring colors of red, barest pink, lavender, coral, or crimson. But one day, I chose white.

Winter white, I thought, so boring and plain. I was so wrong. While the snows piled up against the sliding door, freezing it in its track, I watched those white roses slowly unfurl.

Elegance. Structure. Simplicity. Delicate folds of white on white, white in white, gently opening to greet my winter-weary stare. The edges curl, the petal tips brown, enhancing the beauty of each bloom. A week passes, then two. Soon, it’s time for another white rose bouquet, calm, graceful, slowly opening a path to spring. Laurie Lynch


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