I been journeying with this abracadabra rose. The first bud if spring. I notice she looses her leaves in winter. She’s quite the boney skeleton. Then her stems start  turning green as the green blood of her body begins to rise. Slowly then her buds are appearing. 

Reflecting my own journey of winter. For three months I am bare bones, facing all the skeletons as the winter wind rattles my bones. I hear the creaking and clattering in the stillness. I feel the chill and the smell of death. It is here nothing is hidden. When we go down to the bare bones we are stripped with no where to hide. 

Then when we think there’s nothing left… when the rose bush is dead… the energy begins to rise. Smudges of green begin to appear, tiny leaf buds begin to appear on the once dead looking branches. Renewal calls us again. 

This is the wild wider

~Chonteau