That which we call a rose, by any other name, is still related to a strawberry. --Shakespeare 2.0 I was looking for insects when I came across these. I was drawn to the garish magenta coloration of some species of rose I can scarcely name. I like flowers, don’t get me wrong, but as many of them don’t spray poison, exude food-snaring mucus, or wiggle around in interesting ways, I tend to overlook them in my perpetual search for things that spray poison, exude food-snaring mucus, or wiggle around in interesting ways. I suppose, in this way, I have something in common with Martha Stewart. Who’d have thought that!? By her own account, one of her favorite plants is a beautiful specimen of botanical grace. It’s also poisonous. Naturally she displayed such a vicious thing in a pretty ceramic pot. My respect for Martha Stewart went up a notch when I saw that. (You gotta love a woman who likes poison things and puts them in pots on her kitchen windowsill! Martha rocks!) Anyway, I was looking for insects when I came across a rose bush, and though the blossoms were beautiful and stunning examples of Fibonacci Spirals and sheer mathematical perfection, I was more interested in the prickly bits. In all honesty, I was hoping to find a leaf hopper or two—the kinds of little six-legged people who just so happen to look like ambulatory rose thorns. There were none. I don’t think they like Chicago very much. There were, however, ants and flies of various sorts. There were yellow jackets as well…but they, like me, weren’t interested in roses. They were probably prowling for somebody’s tea. Now, as I look at this picture, my thoughts are going off in all sorts of typical directions. I realize that I like flowers immensely; I especially like those big Amazonian Jungle flowers that smell like over-ripe road kill, or the absolutely gorgeous feeding appendages of the Venus Flytrap. I’m just weird enough to think that if flowers possessed the ability to bite, I’d develop a green thumb. Just think of the possibilities: roses as home-security devices, dandelions as fléchette-firing weapons. Hmm…dandelion fléchettes: note to self…save this idea, it could make for a good plot device. As I look at this image, I’m reminded of what I actually find beautiful in life. Roses are marvelous life forms, and what I like most about them is their thorns. What is a rose, after all, without thorns…? Yeah, and okay…they’re mathematically appealing and they demonstrate that Nature has a fondness for spirals: not just any spirals, but the same Fibonacci Spirals evident in snail shells, spiral galaxies, sunflower seed arrangements, and even cowlicks on some goofy kid’s head. Most amazing, for me—however—is the fact that the rose and the strawberry are close cousins; look at the arrangement of seeds on a strawberry and compare it to the lips of rose petals before the blossom opens. The similarities are spooky! Life is so much fun when Nature opens up like that and shows you something unexpected. Now, if only I could find some of those fléchette-firing weeds! *** As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting...and if anyone comes across aggressive and predatory lawn-weeds, let me know.