Druid

What sleeps under beds of roses? Snails, loved ones, perhaps tiny little druids…

When I was a small girl my grandfather grew rose bushes. Not very impressive to most people reading this I am sure, but the climate and condition under which they grew made them quite impressive. Nutrient leached sandy soils on a beach front property, salt air, and a warm temperature: sometimes up to 40 degrees celcius in the summer. Not ideal for growing roses, and the bushes never grew higher than a metre.

My grandfather took pride in cultivating these roses against the odds. And when one was in full bloom, before the time of its expiry, he would pluck it from the bush, lift the petals off and eat them individually. I used to partake of this little ceremony sometimes. Roses are quite bitter and interesting to the taste, and given my grandfather’s preference for sweet foods such as tropical fruits that he also grew, I can’t imagine he ate them because he enjoyed the taste.

It does then make me wonder… why did he eat them?