Tuesday, October 11, 2011

My Own Yellow Rose of Texas


I am sitting atop of coarse, brown grass, breathing in clean air under the big blue Texas sky. I am in the backyard of my home surrounded by a rough, unpainted six foot tall wooden fence about ten miles south of Austin, Texas.

One might expect that the green grass of the summer would be giving way to the darker colors of fall in mid-October. But this is different.

For here in Texas, we have had more than eighty-five days of triple digit temperatures. Combine the high temperatures with no rain, except for last weekend and the conditions have combined for the creation of the color brown where green should have been.

The summer in these parts ended in the worst drought in recorded history. No wonder that only thirty miles away, wildfires burned more than 1000 homes. Everything outside is dry.

I hear a dog bark in the distance.

The rose bush that I purchased upon arrival from South Alabama three and one-half years ago stands strong. I asked my oldest son Levi to plant it, because he inherited his father’s natural green thumb. I notice that there are no roses in bloom, but that is OK because during the spring, it is not unusual to see fifty yellow roses bursting forth amid the green leaves on this hearty plant.

My father began the tradition of planting rose bushes about thirty years ago when he planted a red rose bush outside the window of our den and living room in South Alabama. We sat inside admiring the beauty right outside the window.

He declared that he had planted this rose bush for my mother, with whom he shared forty-five years of marriage before he died seventeen years ago. Of course, he loved to save money, so he said that he would just plant the bush for her where she could see it and she would always have roses. Then, he wouldn’t have to go out and buy them for special occasions. This worked well for them.

I assigned my personality to his tradition by selecting yellow roses instead of red. I did this in honor of the song “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” I, too, bought it for my mom and asked her to select the place for planting.

A gentle breeze blows as I look upon the rosebush and am reminded of him, her and the love that they shared. I am also reminded of the arrival of my family in Texas. This is a symbol of my new geography.
 

 

 

I wrote this piece in response to an invitation to write "in place" by LL Barkat at Seedlings in Stone as part of her feature entitled "On, In and Around Mondays".
Copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

12 comments:

  1. Kathy, this is lovely. You did it! Beautifully so.

    (the roses are just marvelous)

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  2. Beautifully written! I have been to Texas and can picture the landscape. I love the idea of planting a bush or plant for someone so that it can be enjoyed for years to come. I think your father's idea was nice and he saved money. :) In my family, we often by a special plant/bush when someone passes on and remember them when it blooms and we celebrate their life. Your post reminded me of this. Very nicely put!

    ~jess

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  3. Like L.L said, "You did it." ... This is "sense of place." Way to go! I can smell the roses all the way in Iowa. :)

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  4. Thank you LL. I would not have been able to do it without discussing "sense of place" with you at LL. Thank you for teaching me.

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  5. Thank you for stopping by and for the kind remarks Jess. I like your family tradition of planting something special when someone passes on. Beautiful idea!
    Kathy

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  6. Thank you, Jennifer. I have learned a new skill thanks to all of you at THC. That is growth.
    Kathy

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  7. This is stunning, Kathy. I love your comment about dad buying the rose bush so your mother would always have roses from him, and that the arrangement worked out well for him. A very sweet, personal detail.

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  8. Thank you Nancy. My Dad was pretty special.:)

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  9. I can smell them. You're adding that 1, 2, 3 that Greg Wolfe talked about, too, with the different senses. I can see (and practically smell) those roses. And I can definitely feel the prickly brown grass on which you're sitting.

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  10. Thank you, Ann. I told you that I had learned from your post, and I would be incorporating that into my future writing. Thanks to you and LL for teaching me.:)
    Kathy

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  11. You know, that idea of planting a perpteutal rose bush outside the window is just plain smart. Your dad was a wise man!

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  12. I agree with you David. You know, my parents could have taught Dave Ramsey!

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