Roses—those fragrant, evocative expressions of love, emotion, and beauty. Each radiant bloom imbued with a different color and meaning.
Did you know roses have a language all their own, conveying certain moods or feelings? If you listen carefully with your heart, you might hear the traditional red rose shout respect, courage, passion, or even I Love You.
The white rose may whisper innocence while the pink rose speaks softly of happiness and grace. Yellow roses have long stood for friendship and may sigh in delight as a type of congratulations. Peachy roses impart a feeling of appreciation or gratitude whereas orange roses often imply desire or enthusiasm.
No matter the delicately created blossom color, texture or even its implied meaning, Tim’s roses were superb. It was love at first sight in May 2006. The instant I cupped one of his prize-winning specimens in my hands, I knew I had encountered beauty from the Creator. Tim’s roses—the eternal symbol of love from above shared with me.
Privileged—privileged to photograph Tim’s roses for three years in a row. Strolling alone through his full-blooming rose gardens while the dew drops dripped from the petals, the early morning light subtle…privileged. I can still recall thanking the Lord those mornings for Tim’s expression of friendship and kindness in allowing me this freedom. Truly, I Came to the Garden Alone.
Not only was I allowed to flit from rose to rose with my camera unhindered and with total abandonment, but I was also encouraged to use the pruning shears. As the photo attests, I used the pruning shears effectively. When my husband opened the refrigerator door one evening after work, he found the entire refrigerator filled with roses. Roses in gallon milk containers, roses in fruit jars, roses in plastic bottles…roses, roses, and more roses.
Days of capturing the allurement, exquisiteness, and symbolism of Tim’s roses.
Over the past several years, many of my best flower images were captured in my makeshift light tent. More than half of the rose images at http://www.corinthrose.com were from Tim’s rose gardens.
Was I taken with Tim’s Roses? Definitely.
Please carefully read the following devotional from Springs in the Valley by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman (1939) as you stop to smell Tim’s beautiful roses.
“That it may bring forth more fruit.” John 15:2
Two years ago I set out a rosebush in the corner of my garden. It was to bear yellow roses. And it was to bear them profusely. Yet during these two years, it had not produced a blossom!
I asked the florist from whom I bought the bush why it was so barren of flowers. I had cultivated it carefully; had watered it often; had made the soil around it as rich as possible. And it had grown well.
“That’s just why,” said the florist. “That kind of rose needs the poorest soil in the garden. Sandy soil would be best, and never a bit of fertilizer. Take away the rich soil and put gravelly earth in its place. Cut the bush back severely.”
Then it will bloom.
I did—and the bush blossomed forth in the most gorgeous yellow known to nature. Then I moralized; that yellow rose is just like many lives. Hardships develop beauty in the soul; the soul thrives on troubles; trials bring out all the best in them; ease and comfort and applause only leave them barren.
Did Tim severely cut back his roses? You be the judge.
Come to the Garden AloneI come to the garden alone While the dew is still on the roses And the voice I hear falling on my ear The Son of God discloses. Refrain And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known. Refrain He speaks, and the sound of His voice, Is so sweet the birds hush their singing, And the melody that He gave to me Within my heart is ringing. Refrain I’d stay in the garden with Him Though the night around me be falling, But He bids me go; through the voice of woe His voice to me is calling. Refrain
The RoseIt is only a tiny rosebud, a flower of God’s design. I cannot unfold the petals with these clumsy hands of mine. The secret of unfolding flowers is not known to such as I. The flower God opens so sweetly in my hands would fade and die. I cannot unfold a rosebud, this flower of God’s design. Then how can I have wisdom to unfold this life of mine? So I’ll trust Him for His leading each moment of every day. I’ll look to Him for His guidance each step of the pilgrim way. For the pathway that lies before me my heavenly Father knows. I’ll trust Him to unfold the moments just as He unfolds the rose. Anonymous
Immerse yourself in Tim’s rose petals, buds, and blossoms at http://www.corinthrose.com under Flowers, or linger a bit at the initial slideshow. Maybe I’ll see you in the digital flower garden sometime. Look for the once faded flower now blooming where planted. Thank you.