I carefully prepared dozens of roses to dry. I gently placed them in a special container with silica and whispers of gratitude. Over time, the reds and yellows faded, and I knew they were losing the weight of the rain.
But then I opened up the jar and saw the powdery proof.
After so much care.
After so much thought.
After so much concern.
The roses were covered in mildew Every one of them.
I quickly ran out to the deck and put them in the sunshine, hoping they could somehow be salvaged.
Hoping that all of my intention wasn't covered up and infected by something I had not willingly invited.
I wondered if I was doing it all wrong.
I wondered if maybe I wasn't meant to have the roses.
I wondered if I wasn't ready to have them.
I am not going to find any lessons in this today.
In my anger at myself.
In my sadness for what has been lost.
I am going to let go for the moment.
Let my worries sit in the sun.
"Forged in Flame: Creating a Reclaiming Beltane Ritual" - Creating Ritual issue of Witches and Pagans