Roses and Rust

Happiness comes into our lives through doors we don’t even remember leaving open.” – Rose Wilder Lane 

I’m sitting on the balcony this morning, pen in hand, with my morning cup of tea nearby. The warm sun feels good on my back and there’s a nice breeze coming in from the East. Summer has finally arrived and I’ve been out on the balcony several mornings this week to enjoy my breakfast of oatmeal with fresh, plump blueberries from recent Saturday visits to our local Farmer’s Market with my Mom. I’m enjoying this lovely ritual each Saturday morning, often walking a different route, each garden-rich street a feast for the eyes. There is a stillness present on my quiet sun-filled walks as well, adding a meditative note – I find myself noticing exquisite small details that I might have missed otherwise, last Saturday revealed random feathers from crows and other birds pinned behind loose bark on the odd tree and feathers that found their way driven into the grassy boulevards after spiraling down from a great height, abandoned art waiting to be discovered.

I gather these thoughts and images adding them each week to the wild rose brambles that wander through my words, hopefully creating a garden, where one might sit and read a beloved book or breathe in a line of otherworldly poetry. Lately, as I wander through other gardens collecting words like fallen seeds, I wonder what errant wildflower will show up in mine, it’s colour or scent, a happy surprise! In the tending of this wild place, no matter how beautiful the roses are, in all their pale pink and dark red glory, one will find the presence of rust, waiting among the brambles to erode any beauty it comes upon.

This erosion sometimes comes in the form of the homeless couple who just a few short weeks ago lived in an apartment just like us, I usually saw them in the places that I frequent, the nearby local library and the Whole Foods store a few streets away, familiar faces living their own lives in my Shangri-La-like neighbourhood. Our way of life here is under threat, many apartment buildings are being torn down with new condo developments being built in their place and if rental stock does replace these older buildings, the higher rents being charged are out of reach for most – our city invited the world many years ago to Expo ’86 hoping to earn the title of a world class city and as I sit here in my crumbling tower, I see that it has and the price that we all must pay for this privilege is much too dear. I promised myself I would reach out to them when I saw them next and got my chance at the library not long ago, I now know their names, Steve and Linda – they are doing well despite being homeless, their belongings are in storage and they have money in the bank, they have lived in my neighbourhood for 30 years and are defiantly staying because this is home.

I know that my garden will always contain the heavenly scent of roses and the flaking dark brown of the many rusting bits that find their way through the brambles, it is up to me to find the way to live in harmony with both, one word at a time.

This beautiful, tropical setting taught us to embrace both the roses and rust - Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

This beautiful, tropical setting taught us to embrace both the roses and rust – Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

A young Mexican balancing rocks on the beach later to be abandoned to the waves of Banderas Bay, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

A young Mexican balancing rocks on the beach later to be abandoned to the waves of Banderas Bay, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Journal Entry: November 21, 2011

We had a really nice weekend – we checked out 2 Farmer’s Markets! The small one around the corner from where we live (located at the Paradise Community Centre) was very cool. It was very artisanal, we were hoping to see more vegetables and fruits. The second one (located at the local kindergarten school, El Jardin de Ninos Emiliano Zapata) just down Olas Altas was much larger. We bought some delicious dips from “Archie’s Wok”, guacamole and a cilantro/ginger blend. We also stayed for a snack, a tasty pollo (chicken) tamale and shared a refreshing glass of jamaica juice (made from hibiscus flowers). We ended our snack with a scoop of  mango margarita gelato. It was nice to sit in the shade and take it all in. I’m glad we checked them out, it was the perfect Saturday morning outing.

The very cool and colourful Farmer's Market in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

The very cool and colourful Farmer’s Market in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

My counter here in the West End and in our studio at the "Janitzio" in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico are always covered with the bounty that comes our way.

My counter here in the West End and in our studio at the “Janitzio” in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, are always covered with the bounty that comes our way.

We started most mornings with a delicious bowl of yogurt filled with beautiful fruit and granola here on our table in our studio at the "Janitzio" in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

We started most mornings with a delicious bowl of yogurt filled with beautiful fruit and granola here on our table in our studio at the “Janitzio” in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

 

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About anotetohuguette

I'm currently blogging from the beautiful West Coast city of Vancouver, British Columbia - a vibrant city by the sea, surrounded by mountains and a very unique urban forest.
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12 Responses to Roses and Rust

  1. Shirley Ross says:

    Roses and Rust, Yin and Yang, Wealth and Poverty, all displayed before our eyes, every time we venture out. The roses fill us with joy and the rust with some dismay. Our lives are just like that, every breath we take in and out, lungs filled with roses, expelling the rust. The great balancing act that we must accept, and making us more aware of the roses that must be in abundance to make this dance palatable. May everyone’s day be filled more with the scent of the rose, hiding the rust even though it is needed In this scale of balance.
    Love Mom

    Liked by 2 people

    • This is so true and I love the words, yin and yang – this is our struggle as human beings, we want that neutral feeling at the end of the day, to feel that somehow we managed to take the time to smell the roses and dust off some of that rust. Thanks, Mom!

      Like

  2. ugetse says:

    Thanks Kim for another moving story! I hope that Steve and Linda will find a place suited for their needs and budget.. We must live every day to the fullest. Tomorrow is unknown and hopefully good for all of us. Going out to smell the roses.! Your photos are bringing back good memories of Mexico. ❤️X

    Liked by 1 person

    • I just came in from a morning walk in the lovely gardens in the park, I took the time to inhale all the wonderful scents – there is some beautiful white lilies in bloom in the flower beds where lawn bowling is played. Thank you again, Huguette, for your always welcome comment!

      Like

  3. Rachel McKee says:

    Wow this was such a vivid post. Love the level of description and detail you used to bring this post to life.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Hey
    I found it very interesting going through.
    You are invited to my blog too.

    Like

  5. The Title of this post caught my attention.

    Unusual and I was trying to connect the two entirely opposites. Roses can be of an iron rust color and as usual have thorns (roses, I guess would lose their defence mechanism without them) and Iron which is strong, if neglected can begin to rust after weathering inclement times and can become fragile.

    Again, a wonderful piece of writing, beautifully narrated.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for your thoughts, when I wrote this piece I was thinking of how in our present world we must live with both the beauty of the roses as well as the rust that sometimes shows up near those roses. Thank you for taking the time to read my words and for commenting!

      Liked by 1 person

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