Rosalie

“I was so fortunate. I was able to bury my gloom in beauty anytime I wanted. So could my peers. They could simple say a word, draft a check, and their land would overflow with the hope of nature. But it wasn’t so for people like this man. He would have to wait at the gates for the buds to blossom, never allowed to walk among them or smell the ricinus scent of boxwoods mingled with the honey clove of the roses. Something about the reality of that deprivation felt terribly wrong. Some folk who needed the healing of the wild beauty were the most barred from it.”
― Joy Callaway, All the Pretty Places