Bittersweet Beauty of Roses
ReWilding Mind
Hi there, it’s Hillarie! Rewilding Mind is a weekly reflection on my experience leaving the city and finding nature. It’s a calming read to help you slow down, be present, and find wonder in the everyday. 💚
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Hi friends!
A wedding took us to Portland for the weekend, and I could fully appreciate why it is named the city of roses. Everywhere we went, there were roses of all colors—Barbie pink, fire engine red, and a highlighter orange. Even though I had seen them before, my interest and appreciation for them is so much greater now that I have stared to grow my own roses.
Everywhere I looked, I took a note and adjusted my mental picture for my expanded rose garden. And after a few days away, I was eager to get back home to check on my roses. I wanted to see how the color had changed and admire the new buds that are forming at the tips of branches. My second rose bush has yet to blossom, and I thought for for sure I was going to miss it while I was away.
The wedding we attended was held in a canyon at the edge of some adorable farms not too far outside Portland. We drove through miles of farm land to get to the location and it was dreamy. I was that jerk that drove extra slow to take in every funky lawn decoration and try to guess what they did on each farm—small fields with knee-high crops, modern farm houses with all kinds of out buildings, and so many many ferns! I noted that so many of the farms in the PNW are partially wooded and two of them look alike.
After a few turns, the thick layer of gravel thinned and we started to descend down into the canyon. At first a dense cloud of dust lingered from the car driving ahead of us driving. I slowed down and waited for some visibility. Dust slowly revealed the steep hillsides and a narrow winding road. A little further in, and I could see the hillsides covered in dense, beautiful, and massive ferns. Soon we were looking out on the old growth trees that were dripping with moss. Each switchback gave us a chance to admire another layer of beauty and be in awe of the absolute majesty of the space.
At the bottom of the canyon, it opened up into a road and we passed a few more small farms. An arrow pointed us to our venue and we rounded a corner, looking out on a a great big field where people were playing frisbee, having cookouts, and enjoying the day. While we waited to park, we pulled passed at least five peacocks stretched out on the lawn or strutting about. I was obsessed and wanted to stare at their incredible blue heads just a little longer.
It was a short walk to find the ceremony spot, down a path lined with ferns and more trees. We passed the pens where the peacocks were fed and housed, along with some beautiful chickens. The path opened up to a small clearing with a small pond on one side and a large pond on the other. Some paddle boats caught my eye immediately and then remembered it would be a nightmare with my kiddos—one who dislikes water and one who must put his body in any water he sees. Just then, a stream of light caught my eye. It a fishing line being cast out into the water by a young man standing on the shore. Everything about the scene was so peaceful.
Anymore, going to a wedding is special because they are folks that we really love—this event was no exception. We gathered to witness the love of two people, two adoring families, and the joining of two rich cultures, Jewish x Mexican. Getting to meet people who love and admire the couple is my favorite parts of a wedding. And, of course, hear the stories about what makes this couple want to fight for each other. It is a humbling reminder that love and marriage require ongoing work. It is a call to double down on the vows I once said and support this new family on doing the same.
Beautiful white roses adorned chairs, tables, and chuppah where the couple met. They walked down the aisle to a Hebrew love song about roses, Erev Shel Shoshanim, sung and played on guitar by the officiant. I watched the Jewish aunties lean into each other and sing the sweet, melancholy melody about love. Given the joy and sorrow the family has experienced in the past year, the song felt so right. I bowed my head in recognition of the people who were not present on this day and a few tears ran down my face. Everything seems to be saying that beauty and goodness of this life are both fleeting and everlasting.
Through the rest of the trip, I found myself looking at all the roses with yet a new kind of appreciation. The thorny beauties had a presence about them that was mesmerizing. They had fully embraced the bittersweet nature of living and persevered, knowing that sweetness always comes with sacrifice. That pain is a necessary and important part of love. And this is life.
I hope you all find joy amongst the challenges in life this week. Please take care, be kind, and talk soon,
Hillarie
My love of roses, loved this post. I hope you are having a great Rose season.