If you walked to my backdoor, as I do so often, you would barely notice them.  They are nothing to look at.  Clumps of brown, slowly turning green sticks, with hundreds of sharp thorns on them.  That's it!  They have been there since October, only adding ugliness to what is left of the empty flower garden.

Oh, but I know what is coming.  I can see past the brown, ugly sticks.  I know what the Master Gardener is at work doing, in my flower garden and thousands of gardens around the country, this time of the year.  Quietly, without fanfare, most times unnoticed, the work takes place, and soon...

 

...very soon, you will start to see pictures like these, again on my blog.

I love miracles!  I love the Springtime of the year, when these kind of miracles happen.

 

 

 

I know this process has been happening for hundreds of years.  In fact, I read recently of a quote by Abraham Lincoln.  He said,  "We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses."

I don't know Frank Stanton, but he said,

 

"This old world that we're livin' in

Is mighty hard to beat.

You get a thorn with every rose.

But - ain't the roses sweet?"

 

Ovid said,  "Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses."

Alphonse Karr said,  "Some people are always grumbling because the roses have thorns.  I am thankful that the thorns have roses."

Too often in my life, I am more absorbed with the nastiness of the thorns, than I am with the beauty and fragrance of the roses. 

A rose for you today.  Thank you for stopping by.