“What’s that? Is someone calling?”
“Psst, Mrs. Angloswiss, it’s me.”
“Me, the last rose of summer, all ready and waiting for a photo. Just turn your head where the rose bush grows. I am the only remaining rose.”
I turned and there it was, surrounded by green leaves, fresh and sparkling after a short shower of rain.
“I did not know that roses could talk.”
“Of course we can Mrs. Angloswiss, but we have our own language. On this occasion my branches and leaves gave me permission to communicate. Fetch your super special DSLR camera and take my photo. I am ready and waiting.”
“If you insist, you are very beautiful, your colours are radiant.”
“We have something special to celebrate Mrs. Angloswiss. Mr. Swiss has his astronomical birthday today.”
“But we do not celebrate astronomical birthdays, only the proper ones, and that is tomorrow. How do you know it is all astronomical today?”
“Mrs. Angloswiss, I am a plant, live and breathe with the sun, moon, stars and planets. If I did not go with the heavens, we would all be withered. And now take my photo, I am ready.”
How could I refuse such an invitation from the last rose of summer, so here is the photo. As the last rose said, let us dedicate it to Mr. Swiss.